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Calimport wilts in the early afternoon sun, its labyrinth of criss-crossing pavements and mudbrick walkways baking like clay as the temperature begins to soar. Though today, as the first day of Mirtul, heralds the beginning of spring, already the city is gripped by a devil-strong sun that would not grace the fiercest summer of any northern land. The iridescent spires and tenements of the Emerald Ward simmer in the glare and heat haze lifts like waves on every horizon.

Despite the heat, the people of Calimport are not deterred and preparations for the festival of Greengrass are well underway. People crowd the busier roads, setting up stalls and pushing carts full of supplies for the night ahead between the various villas, inns and bazaars.

Struggling against both the heat and the crowds, you push on into the Marekh sabban, ignoring the merchants and stallholders who vie for your attention. From one source or another you have heard that the infamous Professor Hingleswip is seeking adventurers for his latest expedition. You aren’t sure whether you fit the description of ‘adventurer’ but the lure of gold and perhaps even more precious displays of wealth was enough to peak your curiosity.

Finally, you arrive at the Professor’s residence – a huge building, taking up an entire tenement block in the northeast quarter of the sabban. Empty windows peer down at you from behind thick steel bars and complex mechanisms line the huge glass-tiled roof some thirty feet above.



The laboratories of Professor Hingleswip are a thing of infamy in this part of the city - along with his isolated lifestyle – and normally you know well any visitors would be quickly turned away. However you have arrived at the requested time – midday on the first day of Mirtul.

 Sighing, you look up at the heavy jade doors and polished bronze knocker. There is only one way to make yourself known...
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:29, Mon 10 Oct 2011.

By blowing the damn thing off its hinges...Jibril thought irritably. He stared at the door and then down at the hems of his canary yellow cloak.  Some slovenly oaf on the street had splattered mud on his prized garment on the way here, and he was infuriated.  For a moment, he wondered if there was a reputable cleaner in the neighborhood who could spiff him up, but it would only delay his meeting.  Why do only arcanists have Prestidigitation spells when you need them? As he continued to stare at the door, he inhaled deeply and twisted his neck dramatically back and forth in order to compose himself.  Unfortunately, the cloak would have to wait. It was time to meet the professor.  He rapped the bronze knocker a bit too loudly, as he still tried to calm himself.

Abbas shook his head in a practiced motion, loosening the neckcovering of his golden burnoose and setting it to rest upon his shoulders.  His glossy dark hair shone brightly, white glare on black.  The delicate elven features and stood out amongst the darker skin and broad build of the sea of humankind.

He adjusted the bright blue of his tunic, not because it needed it, but because it was good practice to present a good impression to prospective employers, and this task seemed more potential for interest than the last.  A check of the blades, a check the hang of bow and backpack to ensure they hung properly and would not interfere with draw of steel if trouble arose, not that it seemed likely here - it was prudent to be cautious.

The elf's grey eyes noted a brightly-cloaked man pondering the door knocker, and took his measure before beginning a glide forward.  Abbas nodded to Jibril, and, at a polite distance, side-stepped him in a half-arc to repeat the gesture against the solid jade portals.

"Sun's blessing is strong today, traveller."

Jibril glanced at the elf askance. With a small sigh, he smoothed his crimson silk tunic and turned to the newcomer. "Yes indeed. I know this is a strange request, but do you happen to have a Prestidigitation spell handy?" Jibril rolled his eyes and pointed at his muddy cloak with an embarrassed blush.

"I fear such arcana are not within my field of studies," the elf acknowledged without apology.  Glancing to the hem as he stepped back against the wall, seeking what little shade was offered by the building decoration, Abbas added quietly in reply, "If dirtied water is the issue, I may offer fresh water to aid in cleansing; if thickened earth is the issue, the day's heat will quickly bake it dry, at which point you can simply break it off your fine garment.  Alternatively, Yergan soapstone is most useful on difficult cleansings - I know a merchant who will gladly be of assistance there, but such would, regretably, draw you from these jade doors."

Although Abbas leaned against the wall for its small shade and cool, he remained balanced and watchful of the area - relaxed without being complacent.

Jibril listened attentively to the elf's advice, although it didn't make him much happier. He adjusted the black stole with gold threaded arcane symbols on his shoulders in irritation, but he managed a polite response. "Thank you sir...I appreciate your tip on Yergan soapstone, but alas, you are right. There is no time to fuss with this now. It appears we are both here on business."

"So it would seem," Abbas replied in quiet contemplation.  "I must admit my surprise - from the nature of the referral I received to attend here, I had understood more persons would be presenting themselves, although such does not seem to be developing to be the case.

"Indeed, for such a tempting proposition in early Mirtul, I had anticipated troublesome crowds of applicants, despite the reputation concerns associated within this quarter."

Although lack of direct eye contact was slightly impolite, the elven traveller made no effort to remove his gaze from sweeping the courtyard and buildings bordering the square in which Jibril and Abbas stood waiting.

"I am known here as Abbas Kareem.  I believe your name-exchanging custom is more formal here within chambres, but the street social rules would make it unoffensive to exchange common names, and I find such convention of sharing a name facillitates conversation and good will, and that reduces the need for troublesome displays of posturing, is it that you agree?" the elf offered in the lilting eloquence of his race's tongue, repeating the words in elven-accented common.

A sly, yet enchanting voice speaks in elven behind Abbas," Yet what is in a name? Does it define you, make you who you are? Or is it merely another trapping of life, to be used and changed at a whim? But, names are also mighty as spells, making kings and lords pay fealty at the mention of some. It is thus that you should consider before giving such a simple answer for a complicated subject."

Fareeda approached silently after that, giving the two present a chance to see her and look upon her. She was wearing a slight beige shift that blended with the sand and a top of leather that did little more than cover her breasts. Her hair was let down and the mandolin on her back hung in a loose position. She carried no visible weapons on her.

Before Abbas could answer - if indeed he was able to speak at all when gifted with the voluptuous sight of Fareeda - the heavy click of the door unlocking stole his attention. With a groan, the jade portal swung open, filling the Professor's entrance hall with sunlight - seemingly for the first time in a long while. Instead of being greeted by the expected gnome-shaped form; Abbas, Jibril and Fareeda were surprised by a pair of smouldering crimson eyes that peered down at them out of the gloom. As their eyes adjusted from the fierce sunlight outside, the huge, towering outline of some kind of construct appeared in the doorway. Standing at least nine feet tall and broad as a Stone Giant, the Golem dwarfed the three figures stood on the porch, its polished steel hull gleaming in the sunlight.

"You are permitted entrance." The Golem's face did not move to speak - indeed it had no discernible mouth beneath those glowing eyes - yet the words came from somewhere, their tone heavy and metallic. "Please follow me."

With that, the construct turned and moved out of the way, each awkward stride of its bull-like legs rumbling the floor beneath. Once Jibril, Fareeda and Abbas had entered, it swung the door shut and turned to lead the three prospective adventurers off into the complex.

The entrance hall would once have been a grand reception area, one to match any other villa in the Ward. Beautiful tapestries hung low on the walls, depicting each of the founding Djinn from Calimport's ancient past - and expertly crafted friezes formed a spiral on the ceiling that twisted together around a stained-glass skylight. However, the room appeared to have not been used in years. Thick dust had settled across the tapestries and accumulated filth had dulled the gorgeous colouring of the skylight. This trend of neglect seemed to continue throughout the house as they were lead on through lowlit corridors and eerie, dust-filled chambers. Wherever the Professor spent his time, it was certainly not up here.

Finally, the group arrived in a wide circular room, the floor softened by a thick carpet. Old picture frames lined the dark mahogany wall, their contents faded with age. A dusty chandelier cast its moody light through the room, revealing a row of chairs placed around the perimeter. In one sat a young red-haired Gnome, her short legs kicking as they tried vainly to reach the floor.

"Please wait here." The Golem crossed the room, its heavy feet muffled by the carpet. Opening the opposite door, it seemed to begin a descent before closing the door behind it.

Jibril opened his mouth to reply to the elf and the drably dressed woman who had arrived. But his mouth was left agape when the golem opened the door.  He had always admired the workmanship of these constructs, although the interior of the villa left something to be desired.  He started to sneeze as they kick up the dust in their path, and he pulled out a persimmon colored handkerchief to wipe his tearing eyes. While waiting in the last room, he used the handkerchief to wipe the dust off the paintings so he could examine them.  "Someone needs a maid. Perhaps the golem can be programmed to do some housework." These comments are made to no one in particular.

"All and none  - names indeed may be the leaf upon the breeze, the first to turn colour, or but one leaf in a tree's garments," Abbas replied slowly, tilting his head to acknowledge the speaker.

Despite his best intentions, the elf's brows did quirk momentarily upward and his eyes widen when he inclined his head to view the new arrival moving up along the side of the building - with the penchant here for gauzy coverings, revealing charms of a fetching woman, and one with a remarkable grace.

"I have not heard the Tongue spoken for many days within this city - most pleasing to the ear, lady minstrel.  If time later permits, I would be interested in hearing any songs you know of our communities."

~
Following the golem through dust-covered chambres of beauty suggested interesting elements to the elven warrior, but he kept them to himself and observed the two other walking alongside and taking their measure.

Once within the waiting room, Abbas moved to a chair that provided him a view of the rooms' doors, and waited patiently for Fareeda and Jibril to seat themselves, then joined them.

"Good day to you," Abbas greeted the red-haired gnome. A brief thought to inquire further was quashed summarily - if the gnome felt inclined to share, she would do so, but to ask was presumptuous, for surely she must have a special invitation if she were here in advance, and might well have some connection with the Professor - inquiring of such friendship or relations could produce awkwards results.

As company entered the room the red-haired gnome looked up. She studied each of the arrivals with equal measure, her head tilted slightly as a frown shadowed her green eyes. Suddenly, almost from nowhere a weasel darted across the room as if in greeting, the gnome's frown deepened as the small creature began to run towards the others. As if receiving some silent reprimand the weasel stopped and instead walked over to the gnome and curled up under her chair, it's eyes watching the room attentively. Picking up her staff from where it rested aside the chair the gnome stood up, standing on the chair she brushed down her red robe and muttered to herself before smiling up at the new arrivals.

"Greetings gentlemen," She nodded in reply to the elf and bowed slightly to the human woman, "Lady. I am Linni the flameslinger, master mixologist, Spark of Calimshan, Burning Terror of the Sands and niece to the prestigious Professor Kraust Hingleswip, Enigma of the Port, Captain of Scilandar and Illusionist extraordinaire." Bowing lower Linni spread her arms widely, "I welcome you to our labratories. Please do not let the wandering constructs concern you, it has been over a month since the last malfunctions."

Folding her legs below her Linni sat back down, inviting everyone to do likewise. "The Professor will be with us shortly I am sure, he has been expecting the most talented of mercenaries and explorers for his latest expedition." She looked over everyone once more, ”I just prey that he is not disappointed.”

Jibril stopped his dusting and turns to the gnome. "Well, Miss Burning Terror of the Sands, can you tell us what the last malfunctions were from the constructs? Just to be prepared, of course."

Linni nodded, happy to explain. "Of course." She shifted her weight and looked down between her legs at the weasel sitting underneath the chair before continuing. "I would say that the malfunctions come from the constructs not being created with gnomish hands. How can you put anything so fine together, mechanically, when you have hands like sides of pork? Not to mention the skills of the creators must have been lacking, again I put down to racial discrepancies. Gnomes are clearly at the pinnacle of arcane pursuits." She shrugged, "That is not to say that some arcane artisans of other races to not possess some talent in the creation of constructs. Indeed, I can assure you that the professor would not employ substandard equipment in his laboratories."

She waved a hand towards the door which the golem disappeared moments before, "The most common malfunction is simply shutting down, they inherently can't choose their behavior but sometimes I wonder. They certainly sometimes obey your commands in the most obscure ways. Other, rarer, malfunctions include combustion, explosions, inappropriate use of weaponry, target analysis malfunctions and just the usual 'go crazy and kill everything in sight' problems."

Linni looked to Jibril and gave a reassuring smile, "As I said, nothing to be concerned about."

Fareeda stands quiet behind the others, choosing to more out of simple expedience than rudeness. The Simple fact that she was back in this house meant that she was not in the best of times. Her few times as a social escort for the professor had not gone well in the circles she inhabited. She was going to use this time wisely and not make herself obvious. When Linni talked about malfunctions though, she was unable to keep her snicker at bay.

Fareeda shuffled forward slightly and whispered something to the Elf.

"I expect some of my arcane brethren might express displeasure at being termed "hands like sides of pork", but elven magic takes a more natural path than artificial creations, and I am no practioner in the arts, merely an explorer interested at the option provided here today."  Abbas presented his observations in his quiet, melodical accent before tilting his head to reply quietly to the fetching woman moved to his side.

He spread his hands slightly apart, and gracefully slid his shoulders in what might pass for a shoulder shrug or simply a smooth movement of stretching or exercise.

The group were left in the reception hall for some minutes, their awkward conversations starting sporadically before returning to a doubly awkward silence. Fareeda and Abbas seemed to be getting well acquainted already, their whispered conversation filling the room with scratchy yet inaudible words. Linni continued to stand on the chair, gesticulating as she explained tales of her many deeds - meanwhile, beneath her, Kei the weasel darted in between chair legs as a marauding Balrog might twist between the pillars of an ancient Dwarf city. Finally, Jibril took to inspecting the room, bringing his finger away from every surface with a sneer of disgust.

And so it seemed, the Professor’s adventurers had arrived.

Eventually, after a good ten minutes waiting, the sound of a muffled voice could be heard from the door the Golem had disappeared through - drawing closer as its owner ascended the stairs. Curses and howls of anguish mixed seamlessly with giggles of glee and incomprehensible mutterings; the only words audible through the thick portal being something to do with 'scrap metal' and threats of a 'rusty end.'

Finally the voice, now sounding increasingly out of breath, reached the top of the stairwell. With a click, the door creaked open...

...To reveal an old gnome, huffing and puffing from his exertions on the stairs. Taking a few seconds to regain his composure, he stepped into the reception hall, peering through a pair of spectacles at the arrayed figures.

"Ahah! So you've come! Word must have actually got around then - this is quite a surprise considering the imbeciles that I am surrounded by!" He waved his free hand wildly at this and stepped forward into the room, leaning heavily on a gnarled wooden cane, its handle embedded with fattened emeralds. "Though I suppose one must only mention gold in this city and someone will come running, hm?"

Seeing not a single laugh to his joke, the professor coughed awkwardly and paced on into the room, looking as if he might happily walk out the opposite door and forget his guests. Reaching the centre of the carpet, he stopped, surprised, as if forgetting where he was. "Yes, yes, of course. Introductions. Where are my manners? Stolen no doubt, one cannot keep anything safe from the Calimport thieves it seems, not even manners!" Adjusting his spectacles, he stuck his chest out and continued. "I am Professor Kraust Hingleswip, or so I am told at least, and this..." He gestured around him at the dusty waiting area, "Is my laboratory.” He grinned as if waiting for a round of applause, then remembered himself and cleared his throat – the latter action proving something of a struggle as he burst into a fit of coughing. "My apologies no, this is a waiting room, obviously. My laboratory is around here, however...somewhere. I hope."

He breathed deep and looked around from face to face. "Right then, let’s have a look at you all." He began to move around the room, peering up at each of them in turn. He grabbed hands, tapped weapons with his cane and examined armour and clothes – all the while mumbling incoherently to himself. Finally he came to Linni and stopped. Seeing her so high up on the chair, he promptly jumped up on the one next to her and stood up proudly. "Well, Linni. It looks like you may get your wish. Not enough have come and I need your help." he sighed and his shoulders drooped. "Your father is going to kill me. Ah well, at least he doesn’t have a ship."

With that, he leapt down from the chair and returned to the centre of the room and tapped his cane for attention. "Right then, names and professions? Not that I’ll remember of course but should the impossible occur and I do remember it might give you all some sense of self-worth - which might help, when the time comes."

“Here I go by Abbas Kareem, good Professor, fellow invitees.  I am a traveler, an explorer, from outside the great city of Calimshan.  I consider that my calling; my vocation within Calimshan’s many walls as a personal protector serves to fulfill the goal of learning.”  The elf inclined his head softly and maintained the smile that had touched on his features at the Professor’s comment about the thieves in the city.

“Shortblade and longbow are my preferred weapons, yes, as the Professor pointed out. They are more serviceable for tight quarters and taking care of trouble afar – one who prepares only for the threat on the horizon or next door opens himself to the other.”

Rotating his left wrist counterdial-wise and back along the arm, Abbas gracefully greeted the others formally with one of the elven beckonings of greeting.

Jibril resisted the urge to slap the strange little gnome who was poking and prodding him.  Despite his glares, the Professor continued to treat him like a lab experiment.  With a grunt, he drew himself up to his full height. "I'm Jibril Husam al Din, cleric of Azuth and Magistrati from the Spell Lord's House in Quill Ward.  You know--those clerics who try to keep an eye on the appropriate use of magic in Calimport and question things like wanton golems in full kill destruct mode."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:00, Wed 01 July 2009.

Linni frowned as her uncle jumped up onto the chair and as he held himself high Linni tried to match the height, though missed by almost a half foot. She shooed him away as he hopped down and was happy he turned his attentions to the others.

As her turn came about she waved a hand, "The others are, of course, already familiar with my mastery of the arcane arts. " She turned from the professor and continued, "However, I am also an alchemist." She poked one of the many bottles strapped over herself, "These are my creation. You may know the substance as alchemists fire, however this is a very potent and deadly extract of such a mixture, perfected by myself."

Abbas considered his pleasure at being the opposite side of Linni's seat.  "Alchemist's fire... a useful tool, also quite dangerous in circumstances.  I recall one adventuring saga - "The Tale of the Blackblade Company - wherein the party's priest had taken a penchant for the substance and elected to bring along several flasks - unbeknownst to the party.  A ball of fire exploding during a trap triggered the flasks and killed nearly the entire band.

"Helpful, but requiring much caution in handling."  The elf made no move to rush over and embrace Linni, but neither was their a rush over to remove any said bottles.  It was, such as might be the case, an observation from a safe distance.

Fareeda smiled as the others put in their small introductions. She bowed gracefully.

"I am Fareeda. That is all I go by and all you need to know so far. I am a simple escort by trade, trained in the harems and knowledgeable of the ways of a companion.I am fluent in several languages and have a knack for getting, let's say, the better side of the deals I make."

She rises, but gives Abbas a sly wink. "There is another tale that tells of the bottled flame, but I would be unkind to tell all of my tales before they were due."

"A dancer?" Linni gasped incredulously. She turned to the professor, "Uncle, I'm sure we'll have enough excitement that you don't need to be... entertained by some human girl while on Scilandar."

Linni turns to Fareeda and narrows her eyes before looking back at the professor, "She has eyes for the elf anyway so I'm not sure what you're planning to get out of this." She sat back on the seat heavily, grumbling, "She better be good with a sword is all I can say."

The Professor looked up at Fareeda, squinting through his spectacles at the voluptuous young lady. Obviously recognising her from somewhere, he twisted away, stuttering awkwardly. "No. Nope. Not me. Never seen her before. Don't know what you're talking about."

Coughing, he glanced back at her, his grey whiskers twitching. Slowly but surely, and despite her difference in race, his gaze slowly lowered to Fareeda's heaving bosoms, barely concealed by her clothes. "...Though I'm sure we'll have a use for such an expert musician on board. The nights can get awfully lonely, after all. We'll all need something to cheer us up." The old gnome stroked his moustache, eyes still fixed on the bard's breasts. "Yeees. Music."

Noticing the glare of Linni in his peripheral, Professor Hingleswip snapped quickly out of his trance. Fearing a confrontation with his fiery niece, he gestured behind him at the door he entered by. "And yes of course, the Scilandar! I'm sure you've all been desperate to see - it is, after all, my finest creation." He winked at Fareeda and turned to head off, motioning for everyone to follow. "This way please!"

Following the Professor, the group made their way down a short set of stairs that culminated in a heavy set of steel blast doors, beyond which the sounds of engineering work was clearly audible. The Professor kept a constant commentary as they went, mumbling on about schematics and tactical data.

Reaching the doors, he stopped, turning to the group of perspective employees with a knowing smile. "Behold." With a grunt, he pushed the doors open, revealing the truly impressive sight that lay beyond.

The huge chamber was not so much a room, but more of a cavern, its far wall some two hundred feet distant and half that wide. The ceiling must have been seventy feet above, its centre dominated by a huge glass skylight, through which the now-scorching Calimshan sun beamed through like a nimbus of divine light. The outlines of various pulley systems and chains were visible through the glare. This huge window was designed to open...

Despite the impressive size of the cavern-like chamber, it could not compare to the object in its centre. Floating and bobbing in the dusty air, the Scilandar was truly a sight to behold, her curving hull a full forty feet from end to end. The vessel's bulging air balloon - even now struggling against the docking ropes - was divided into two capsules, separated by a central mast that stretched up to a crow's nest some twenty feet above the deck. All sorts of apparatus, pipes and strange machinery covered the vessel, filling the air with hisses, clanks and groans as it rolled gently from side to side in the concrete dock.



Sparks flew from the ship's starboard side and hammer blows resounded from somewhere in the ship's interior, indicating that the Scilandar was undergoing some sort of repair. Looking closer, it was easy to see why - huge gouges and claw marks were visible down the ship's flanks, hinting that she had been in a fight fairly recently.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:00, Mon 10 Oct 2011.

The Professor smiled as he watched his guests look out, awe-struck, into the docking area. "Some sight isn't she?" He stepped on into the massive chamber, each tap of his cane echoing through the cavernous space. "She took a few knocks in her last outing but the twins are confident we'll be able to set off by nightfall." He noted the confused looks on many of the group's faces. "Ah yes, the twins."

Turning, he walked over to the Scilandar's prow (this taking some time with his short gnomish legs) and called up to the deck. "Ham! Jens! Come say hello!" A few seconds passed before two faces appeared over the gunwhale, virtually identical but for the arrangement of facial hair and both of them smeared with oil and grease. They grinned and waved down at the new 'guests'.

Fareeda kept the shocked gasp from exiting her mouth as best she could, but it was of no use. She stared at the two men on the ship briefly before whispering aloud. "And lo there did I see the gods descend unto the world, clad in the garments of the heavens. They bade me to come with them, to fly among the birds and creatures of the sky. I told them I was not worthy and that men were not meant for the sky. They responded with laughter, telling me that if man was not meant for the sky, then I was blind. And thus I reached the pillars of clouds and saw there the men of the sky, angels upon high that watched their fellows with amusement and wonder. When asked by the leader of the sky-men as to how I came to the sky I replied, it was the will of the gods. The sky-man smiled, saying that too is how they came to the clouds. And thus came to pass the will of the gods and man was meant to soar."

Eyeing the group of strangers as fareeda began her poetic verse, Jens turned to his brother, speaking in a language none of the group could understand. "Geloth, carru'na versvesh. Karif munthrek rhyaex!"
This message was last edited by the player at 13:32, Fri 03 July 2009.

Ham laughed loudly at his brother's apparent joke. He grinned down at the group, his eyes falling on Jibril. He pointed at the man's brightly coloured clothing and made a symbol of shielding his eyes. He laughed heartily again and the two brothers disappeared from sight.

His lips pursed, Jibril frowned at Fareeda.  He was in agreement with the red-haired gnome. Jibril found it scandalous that a common whore would be accompanying them on this trip. He glanced over at the elf, while making a mental note to find sleeping arrangements far from his location. He needed his sleep after all, and it would not please him to be interrupted by tawdry noises nearby.  Which reminded him-Did I pack that sleeping mask?

Upon seeing the floating skyship, he crossed his arms and turned to the professor. "And what prevents a well-placed arrow or lightning bolt from popping that balloon and plunging us into the ocean or into a farmstead?"

Abbas nodded slowly as Fareeda explained her knowledge of the elven language and vocational role.  Unlike the others, he neither drooled over the beautiful attributes displayed, nor villianized her profession.  "It is not dissimilar from my own, I imagine - as I tend to protecting the body, she tends to the body's spirit."

An absence of heavy armour allowed the leather-clad protector to follow the progession quietly, but made his inhalation of surprise at seeing the floating airship all the louder by comparison.

"Well said, lady Fareeda," Abbas agreed and walked forward in motion that was as close to a dancing stride a person could accomplish without shifting and spinning about, and fell just this side of unmatchable grace.

Reaching up to lightly trail his fingers across the wooden frame, he measured steps around the side, marking and tracking the claw gouges into the shell.  "Or claws such as these.  This wood is durable, but one can feel a shimmer of warding resin upon the hall - I presume the airbag must be heavily magicked for protection against outside attacks and pressure changes?  Are there magics to control the weather and winds about the vessel, or does it ride captive of the breezes that blow where they will?  I imagine tacking and sailing would be of limited use without a sea's support beneath the keel."

Abbas tilted his head, soaking in the sight of the magnificient creation.  "Lady Fareeda, the will of the gods and the challenges to joining such elevated company, it seems..." the elf traced the series of claw marks and nodded appraisingly.

"Mighty birds to do such sized damage - I would think dragon, but no spell damage, and nothing obvious in bite marks.  Interesting - what did this?"

Fareeda laughed when the twins made their appearance and even harder still when she caught sight of Jibril and his pursed lips. She turned on the man and his question of the airship's integrity. Walking forward she put her hand on the mans cheek. "You of all people should appreciate the value of faith, priest." She took her hand away and walked towards the ship. "The ship and I are very similar. You would look at her and question her strength, as you have done me. Trust me when I say that looks are deceiving. Like me, she is more that breasts and a rear, however well endowed they may be. Her purpose is obvious, as is mine, though I would doubt that you had garnered that information yet. Looks from a woman can be as deadly as a bow shot and her words more damaging than a sword. Do not keep your emotions and thoughts to yourself though, let me hear from your mouth that I am wrong and you do not consider me more than a street whore to be played with and satisfy the needs of the male crew. Am I wrong or has your body betrayed you?"

A sneer played on Jibril's lips, but otherwise he kept his stoic pose. "And do you also pop when a well-placed arrow or lightning bolt strikes you?"

Fareeda laughed again, "No it is more like a squishing noise, but it matters not the sound."

The Professor watched as the group took in the sight of the Scilandar, leaning heavily on his cane as he prepared to answer the 'usual' questions.



"I'm glad you asked good sir!" came the Professor's all-too-quick reply. "Mm yes. Perhaps you could relay my answer to your superiors in the temple of Azuth on our return. The Magistrati seem to enjoy hounding me at every opportunity!"

He lifted his cane to point at the air balloon. "It is quite simple really. Though you see two main capsules, they are in fact divided into many smaller compartments, each with its own hot air supply and pipe network. Thus!" He turned to face Jibril, beaming widely, "Should one compartment be breached, little to no flight control damage shall be sustained. Beyond that, the fabric is of course warded and imbued with protection seals and the like so it would take some force to pierce it regardless."

As Abbas began to inquire of the deep marks covering the vessel's hull, the Professor coughed awkwardly and waved him away. "Hm. Yes. Err no - don't worry about that."

He pulled the group together, away from the ship, obviously intent on changing the subject. "So I suppose I had better tell you of where it is we are going." He cleared his throat and pulled a folded piece of parchment from one of his pockets. Unravelling it slowly, he revealed a map, which - on closer inspection - was clearly of the Chultan peninsula. "The jungle labyrinth of Chult. The steaming, sweltering land of the God-creator Ubtao." He thrust a small but pudgy finger at the vast blotch of green that represented the jungle landscape. "This, my friends, this is our destination."




He looked around the group from face to face, trying to gauge each reaction to the announcing of their objective. Would they be ready for such a perilous journey?

"In my travels, I have come across something of an ancient relic, a map of sorts. After long months of translating, I have discovered the approximate location of an ancient temple, aspected to Ubtao, hidden in the deepest, darkest parts of the Chultan jungle. This temple is said to have been the home of the Mazelord before his ascendancy and is filled with secrets from times before Toril's recorded history. One of these 'secrets' is of much interest to me - I will not tell you what, for such knowledge could endanger you all," the Professor's usual happy expression dropped to a stern grimace as his gaze glowered from face to face, "There are those who have learned of my discovery and would seek to sabotage this expedition." The old gnome breathed deep and exhaled sharply, "Nevertheless, I can guarantee you the kind of wealth and magical treasure to make such a journey worthwhile - all I require of you is to see us safely to our destination." He pointed to the large expanse of jungle northwest of the Peaks of Flame and smiled up at the group - though a hint of concern in his eyes revealed that such a task would not be so easy.

"However, before we can set sail - though of course we have no sails to set..." He waited for a laugh at this, but, receiving none, sneered and carried on. "Before we can depart I am need of some extra materials and spare parts for the Scilandar. I think this will be a good test to see if my new employees are, as we say, adequate for the role." He grinned at the complexity of his ownt wit, his moustache twitching from side to side. "I have already made the order - all you need do is travel to the residence of Jala Ghusoon in the Khanduq Ward, Naiid Sabban. You'll find her easily enough, just look for the biggest, most outrageous villa in the entire ward. She's something of a seductress if you know what I mean, so be careful - and it's not just looks that have built up her vast empire of wealth - she has a hand in almost every extended bazaar and khanduq in the city! And for Gond's sake don't let her pry any information about where we're going out of you, she's as nosey as they come!"

He gestured to a square outline in one of the side walls of the docking chamber which grated slowly open at a command. "Use this passage to get in and out, it should avert any attention. We will leave as soon as you return, so make haste!" The old gnome rapped his cane against the stone-tiled floor as if in emphasis, chuckling heartily and mumbling unintelligibly to himself.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:59, Sat 04 July 2009.

“The jungle island of Chult…

“I expected a long journey once the airship was revealed,” Abbas agreed as he bowed his head over the map and mentally marked the communities and geography portrayed by the parchment.  “Yes… many strange sights to be found there, I imagine.  I had not considered exploring the island, but fewer places there would be in this land – even more ruthless than Calimshan streets and without the exotic dancers.

“Fewer pickpockets, as well.

“Are we to confirm the list of contents before receipt, convey the purchasing chest, or simply escort back what supplies she indicates are the requested items?  Should Ms. Ghusoon have questions of your travel plans, we simple servants will indicate our exclusion from destination planning and refer her to your formal reception hours.”

The elf turned from his consultation of the map and tilted his elbow out to offer his arm to Fareeda.  “If there is such opposition to your travel, Professor, the area around your place will be under observation as well as the known exits.  This passage assists on the immediate, but any spies will be watching the surrounding streets, and a disparate group of four strangers travelling will draw attention.  I would suggest Fareeda and I head out first, followed shortly by you,” Abbas nodded to Jibril and Linni.  ”If we remain in sight of each other, but separated somewhat, then we are able to support each other while lessening the suspicion.  I expect any supplies the Scilandar requires will necessitate a return in wagon, and denying opponents opportunity to strengthen ambush numbers would seem to be prudent.”

Jibril appeared to be satisfied enough with the professor's answer about the integrity of the ship.  He held his breath as he studied the map of Chult.  When the professor spoke of sabotage, he turned to him, "How do you know none of us are saboteurs sent here to undermine you?" He glanced at Fareeda.

Fareeda took Abbas' arm and pulled him close.

Elsewhere...

He closed his eyes and ran his fingers lightly over the wall, almost tenderly, as though he were caressing a woman.

The seam was barely noticeable, and he couldn't feel any change in texture. Perfect. He opened his eyes; the small ring where the fall-away cover sat was apparent, in good light and when one knew what they looking for. But an occasional table placed over it would conceal it nicely, and a cheap fake 2nd Dynasty Mulhorandi vase would make for an excellent distraction to any thief who stopped for a quick appraisal. For their troubles they would receive a fusillade of darts to the legs, which should slow them down enough his dear mistress Jala to take care of matters. A halfling thief was another problem entirely, but then, so was a face-full of darts.

Next he brushed his foot across the tiles before the trap. Slightly raised, but he couldn't help that, for the pressure sensing device had to go somewhere. Lighting would help hide it though; only the most brazen thieves operated in the day. He armed the trap by pressing against the skirting board.

Lambrac stood up and stretched and gazed up and down the corridor, considering his handiwork. It was a simple trap, and cheap, but effective for most home security purposes. The pieces had been  created by independent craftsmen in different wards, and even from other lands, purchased under several assumed names, so there was no chance of tongues wagging. All the old plasterer with the failing vision knew was that he was simply repairing the wall after some renovations. Lambrac himself had spent most of the previous day stripping the old wall down.

There was one last test to perform however.

He strode to one end of the corridor and began to walk back down it, with a steady, measured pace, nice and casual. He closed his eyes. He was getting nearer to the trapped area, he knew. His foot would press down on the flagstone, a wire would be tugged, the cover would drop away and a spring-loaded barrel would fire a sabot filled with thin darts at his upper legs. Such a simple chain of events.

But he couldn't deny the fear, the quickening of his heart, the cold sweat. The anticipation was the worst part, he decided, waiting for something bad to happen. Actually dealing with it wasn't so bad, it was considering all the myriad ways he might fail that was the problem. But he also couldn't deny how much he enjoyed it.

He heard the click, just what he been waiting so keenly to hear, and was already diving forwards as he heard the whip! whip! whip! behind him. He hit the ground and rolled, then looked back. The darts had clattered against the other wall. Meanwhile, there was a sharp pain in his thigh. Gond's gears!

So, he couldn't dodge them all. He pulled it out, it didn't bleed much. Honestly, he was quite pleased. His trap worked splendidly. He reset the trap, then disabled it for safety's sake. He made a quick prayer to Gond to help ensure it remained in good working order.

Then, limping, Lambrac wandered off to find Jala, to let his mistress know that her villa was now just that little bit more secure. Then he would beg some first aid or healing for his leg. Perhaps she might even kiss it better, he thought with a happy smile.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:14, Mon 06 July 2009.

Professor Hingleswip shook his head and smiled as he was barraged with concerns from Abbas and Jibril. "It seems I've hired a group of worriers, not warriors to accompany me on this quest!"

He listened to Abbas first, chuckling as the exceedingly well-spoken moon elf went on. "Fear not, young elf, you will not have to carry too heavy a load. My goods will be in a single chest that two of you should be able to carry between you. And do not worry about checking the order, I very much doubt Lady Ghusoon will have reason to fiddle with one of her most...loyal customers." He smiled at this, then continued, "Yes I suspect you're right - our 'friends' probably are watching every entrance and exit. Nevertheless there's no harm in letting them know that we know they're watching."

Winking at Abbas he moved forward, raising his arms to usher the group into the passage. "Ambush? Pah, nothing you couldn't handle with that sword of yours master elf, I'm sure!" He chuckled maniacally and moved past to open the outer door, disguised on the outside, apparently, as a window pane. Sunlight exploded into the gloom as the secret door swung open and the yellow-white stone of Calimport was visible outside as a shimmering gleam.

And as the group strolled out into the glare, the Professor called after Jibril, his tiny figure struggling to close the door behind them. "Because, Jibril Husam Al Din, acolyte of Azuth - I know more about you all than you might think." He laughed and shut the door with a heavy clank, leaving the group to reflect on his words.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:34, Tue 07 July 2009.

Outside, it was now mid-afternoon and the sun burned directly above - an elemental presence, its apparent desire to scour this city from the face of the desert. Despite the high temperatures, it seemed more and more people had crowded into the street since they had arrived. Hordes of slaves and merchant caravans trundled along in the heat and whips cracked over the heads of wagon-pulling oxen. The preparations for the festival of Greengrass were well underway.

The way to the Khanduq ward lay to the east, though the group could either move through the city streets or the across the drudack byways above.

"Undoubtedly, he's using some divination type of spells on us. I'm not particularly fond of having my mind probed without my awareness." He studied the others. "Well, I suppose we better get on with this. The day is not getting any shorter, and I'd prefer to get out of this oppressive heat." He sighed again looking at his muddied cloak, especially annoyed now that he was going to have to present himself to someone so prominent as Jala Ghusoon with dirty clothes. As they traveled the byways of Calimport, Jibril could not help be distracted by the myriad of colorful items being sold in the bazaars. He resisted the urge to shop, but his attention was wandering as they passed several persuasive hagglers.

After a discrete distance to not immediately draw attention, Abbas led the party upwards to the drudach byways and away from the congestion of the streets.  Timeliness of travel would be something the professor would be checking, and the streets possessed the most delays and dangers.  Most importantly, it was much harder to disguise an ambush or prevent the party from shimmying down a rope to safety, if necessary.

"Fareeda, Jibril, are you familiar with this woman?"

Linni bumbles along with the group, her little legs working twice as hard to keep up. She had said very little since entering the Professor's dock, smiling at the awed reactions of the others and nodding when her uncle brought out the map of Chult. It was evident she had known of his plans before today.

As the group ascends to one of the many byways criss-crossing Calimport, she finally speaks up, "I've heard bits and bobs. The mistress of whores they call her, grown rich off male desire - which uncle Hingleswip unfortunately can attest." She narrowed her eyes on Fareeda, "She'd probably know more."

"As I do," Fareeda said as she gave a glance back at the gnome. "She gains a cut of all of the hareems in the city, as well as all of the brothels in the city. I know little more than that, but if she has a finger in all of the pies of the city, then talking around them would be unwise." She clung to Abbas' arm ever tighter. It had been a long time since she had a man of his calibur next to her and she was going reap the rewards of his company.

The group set off into the city, choosing to move by the drudach wall byways rather than the streets below. Traffic was thick, even up high, and for the first part of the journey progress was very slow. The drudach paths soon expanded onto the Marekh sabban's walls however, doubling the width of the byways and allowing a much quicker pace. Some of the wealthier-looking nobles arched their brow at the scantily clad form of Fareeda daring to use the byways - but seeing her in the company of a Magistrati of Azuth and a well-dressed elf warrior; they obviously assumed her as their escort and made no comment.

Every street below was crowded with people. Rai and maqam music played out over the general murmur of the crowd and shouted offers from market stalls - their fat Calishite owners placing themselves in the middle of the street to virtually force people past various wares. The scent of roasting pork and Behedrin steak hung heavy in the sweltering air and smoke from cooking fires could be seen rising with the heat haze all across the city. The festival was in full swing.

After half an hour or so, walking along the byway between the Otahl and Axash sabbans, the group reached the Khanduq ward and the boundaries of the Naiit sabban without incident. Here, the festival seemed to draw a seedier crowd and swarms of people jostled and pushed to get into the many brothels, taverns and gambling festhalls. As the group travelled deeper into the sabban, they saw several brawls breaking out in the streets below - only to be quashed out quickly and brutally by the amlakkar guards.

After some time, the byway lead to a huge and beautifully designed tenement villa, its towers and domed roof gleaming in the afternoon sun - giving the whole building the apperance of being built from solid gold. A twenty-foot wall surrounded the estate, and the byway leading to its upper level was blocked by a heavy iron gate, flanked by two guards who crouched in what little shade was available.



As the group approached, the two guards stood up to their full height and lazily retrieved their halberds from the wall. They were both approaching seven-feet in height and looked like they were made out of solid rock - one a huge orc with a jagged scar running through one eye and the other a bearded, black-haired human with muscles bulging through the seams of his banded mail armour. The latter spat out onto the dusty stone walkway as the group drew nearer, his eyes searching from face to face.

"Business?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:03, Mon 13 July 2009.

"We are here to pick up a chest from Lady Ghusoon for delivery," Abbas replied simply, not going into further detail than he judged the door guards required.  "We should be expected."  The elven warrior made no move to draw his blades - though he felt confident in his ability to handle the guards if necessary, and the heat of the day had clearly dulled their expected level of security, offensive actions were less likely to produce a waive-through or beckoning of the internal escort.

Instead he allowed the lady on his arm and the priest at his back to reinforce his words should any doubt remain.

"The trollop," Jibril muttered barely audible under his breath.  He winked at Fareeda and added loudly, "And I'm sure you'll be able to greatly aid in this transaction.  Have you worked for her before?"

Sniffing loudly, the tanned human guard lazily stepped to one side and pushed open the gate, allowing just enough room for the group to pass one at a time. "You're expected elf, you wouldn't have made it this close to the gate otherwise." He gestured for them to enter into the villa. "Do not think to cause any trouble - miss Jala has much more than myself and Bursuq here looking after her wealth." His eyes narrowed with the threat and he spat again off the edge of the byway. "One of the slaves will take you to the Mistress' chambers."

The other guard, 'Bursuq' said nothing the whole time and refused to move an inch to make it easier for the group to pass. His orcish gaze did not stray once from Abbas, and his lips were twisted into a snarl at the mere sight of the elf.

Once past the gate, the connecting byway from the drudach wall formed a wide stone staircase descending onto a path that meandered through the villa's enclosed garden. The perfectly trimmed grass turf had evidently been recently replaced, yet was already beginning to wilt and fade in the Calimshan sun. Small topiary trees and bushes were placed around the garden, sculpted into the shapes of various animals - tigers, elephants, dolphins, lions - all brought to life in meticulous carvings of the living foliage. The scent of flowers wafted through the air from ranks of orchids, delilahs, roses and lotuses arranged carefully against the walls and the sound of rushing water echoed around the garden from dozens of marble fountains.



It seemed money was not much of an issue to whoever inhabited this mansion...

The group continued along the path, transfixed by the sheer beauty of what lay around them. Seeing their approach, a man left his tending of the flowers and moved to greet them, his stooped posture and the brand on his bare chest marking him clearly as a slave. Stripped to the waist and clad only in white breeches with a sash around his waist, the slave made no effort to make eye contact. He appeared to be the only person out here other than Abbas, Linni, Jibril and Fareeda and his shoulders and shaved head were raw and blistered from exposure to the sun. He bowed and gestured to follow him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:44, Sun 12 July 2009.

"It would be wise to follow all of the advice that the harem guards say. They are the authority here, superceded only by the Mistress of the House. I would reccomend keeping your words well chosen and keep to the subject for which we came." Fareeda looked genuinely worried.

Jibril marched solemnly with the others, while admiring the beauty of the villa and the interior gardens.  "The trollop certainly has good taste. I'll begrudge her that," he thought to himself with an amused smirk.  For now, he was content to let Abbas spearhead this interaction with Jala Ghusoon.  He kept a wary eye out though as they proceeded, while mentally reciting a defensive spell in his mind if this was some sort of trap.  This, after all, was Calimport.

Linni went along with the others, smiling happily and ignoring the guards' gruff demeanour and barely concealed threats. As they entered the garden she laughed and danced about on the grass, skipping between the sculpted trees and fountains like a child. She was young, very young for a gnome, and that fact was becoming more and more evident. Would she be a liability for the dangers that lay ahead?

As the slave came over, she looked at his sunburn and winced. "I think someone has got on the wrong side of this 'mistress' - who'd make their slaves work outside on a day like this?" She skipped after him, giggling. "Don't worry, I can do a lot worse than sunburn if things get nasty."

Abbas made no move to his blades, but allowed a touch of his readines to bleed through in the gate negotiations - he wouldn't start a fight, but he was more than ready to finish it.  When he walked through the gate, he was the one to walk the closest to the orc.

As they walked through the palacial grounds, the elf's gaze drifted, never focusing more than momentarily on any one area, instead endlessly casting to and fro.

"Wise advice, Fareeda, and worthwhile to be aware of same.  Are there any characteristics of hers which should govern our interaction with her?" Abbas clarified quietly as he followed the garden slave.

The slave lead the group through the rest of the garden and through a wide doorway into the villa itself. A short flight of steps lead to a huge reception hall, the ceiling of which curved upwards into the villa's main dome roof some fifty feet above. Gorgeous carvings and friezes covered the inside of the dome and golden light speared down from a stained glass window in its centre. Ranks of sculpted marble pillars supported the huge chamber and chequered blue and white tiles covered the floor. The scent of lavender hung heavy in the air.

Following a thick blue carpet that struck across the tiles, the slave lead Jala's guests on into a winding corridor. They passed along, glancing into the countless rooms and chambers. Slaves worked tirelessly in sweltering kitchens, struggling to prepare a constant feast for the mistress and her guests; semi-clad men and women giggled and chased each other between luxurious indoor swimming pools, saunas and spa pools; and the many guest rooms swam in passionate colours and moody lighting - from several of which could be heard muffled moans of pleasure.

Moving quickly past, the slave finally brought the group to a large double-entrance to what seemed to be the master bedroom. Nodding once, he turned and headed off to resume his punishment. More of an oversized banquet hall than a bedroom, the huge room was also draped in shadow, every window covered by multi-coloured drapes and curtains that billowed softly in the breeze. These curtains continued into the room on long rails, forming private chambers in which figures writhed in passion. Elsewhere, men and women played and cooled off in a variety of shallow pools, centred by phallus-shaped statues that fountained water back into the pool.

Keeping their eyes averted, the guests continued on until they reached the Mistress herself, sprawled elegantly across a large divan in one of the room’s corners. A well built slave, naked except for a sash covering his loins, fanned her from one side and a young human sat nearby on an opaque wooden chest, his pretty face and green eyes fixed longingly on the Mistress.

This Mistress, Jala Ghusoon, was indeed beautiful. Just as the rumours had said, and more. She was stunning, divine, almost. Her barely concealed curves rippled along with the divan she lay across and smouldering hazel-brown eyes fixed each member of the group as they approached. It was easy to see how one possessing beauty so rare, so natural, so breathtaking could rise to such power in a city like Calimport.

Jala watched her 'guests' approach, a knowing smile hidden by her delicate red veil. Of all of them her eyes held longest on Fareeda - and not just her eyes...

"Welcome to my home, humble adventurers." She lifted her arm to gesture around her with a smile, revealing for a brief instant her bulging cleavage. "I trust Valenduq saw you in safely - he tried to escape during the...festivities last night, can you believe it? Perhaps I should show him what life is like for a slave elsewhere in the city? Then he would understand how lucky he is to be in my service, hm." Her eyes lifted in a gentle smile at this as she clicked her fingers to send the slave behind her scampering away.

She gestured over at the pretty-faced human sat on the chest. "This is Lambrac Se'Kilderic, my security advisor and...friend. He will assist you in taking the chest back to Professor Hingleswip. It is, after all, Greengrass today, and I would be aghast to see Kraust's goods not delivered safely." She smiled again and let a hand accidentally brush her shawl from across her leg, revealing the curve of her thigh. She glanced at Fareeda, eyes full of desire, then continued. "So perhaps the Professor has said more of what it is he is looking for in those gloomy jungles? You are the third group of adventurers he has hired you know? I should despair to think of what grisly fate the others met." She picked at a fingernail as if not aware of her own blatant attempt to scare them. "If you do happen to find anything...pretty on your journey - I am something of a collector of rare baubles and I can offer some very attractive rewards," Her eyes fixed again on Fareeda as she said this and her hand dropped to rest just above her right breast. "Very attractive indeed."

Jibril's eyes twinkled as took in the surroundings. Despite his best intentions to let Abbas speak first, he couldn't resist the temptation. "The Professor is looking for death in the jungles--ours primarily."  He dabs a bead of sweat off of his forehead with his persimmon colored silk handkerchief.  "Speaking of jungles and baubles, how much is that bauble you just sent away?" Jibril points to the well-built slave with the fan and gives Jala a sly smile.  "Since I am journeying to the jungle, I also need to keep cool, and he appears to have some expertise in...fanning."  Jibril had some skill in bartering for baubles.  "As for Valenduq, was he seeking to join that rabble of freed and escaped slaves known as the Nadhari?" 

Chult. The word still echoed in his mind. Chult. Why did it have to be Chult? Why not the jungles of Lantan - almost as lush, only one-eighth the danger. And with less spiders. He'd take the burning deserts of Calimshan, the monstrous pirates strongholds of Nelanther, but Chult? Still, this was his job, one he'd been hired to do.

He was prepared as much as he could be, not as much as he would have liked. How could one prepare for Chult? He'd left instructions about security arrangements with the head-slaves, about how to deal with the new trap in the north wing. He'd packed his tools and gear, some clothes that would survive the jungle. Hopefully this gnomish professor would provide anything else that might be required. As for mental preparation... well, he'd spent the afternoon gaining enough pleasant memories of Mistress Jala as could last him the entire trip there and back. Perhaps that was why she had sent for the fanner soon after? Parting was such sweet sorrow, still more if when he half-expected not to return.

Lambrac stirred from his reverie at the arrival of the others, and stood at the mention of his name. Bright green eyes peered out from under a mop of copper-red hair, tied back in a loose pony-tail. Eyes and hair contrasted with his pale yellow-skin, almost like old parchment. His face was handsome and exotic, with almost half-elven features with a sprinkle of gnome.

He was of average height and slender build, clad simply in loose breeches and shirt, under a flowing travelling coat, all in pale shades of white, yellow and brown. He bowed neatly and elegantly, displaying fluid movements with grace and balance. "Well met, my lords and lady." he purred.

Lambrac cast an appraising eye over them. They didn't look like jungle explorers. The elf seemed capable enough, but a foppish priest, a gnomish girl who seemed far too young even for her kind, and... a dancing girl? He couldn't fathom her purpose, but at least they wouldn't be short of entertainment on this journey.

Waitaminute. Third group of adventurers for this mission? A grisly fate for the others? It was probably some other mission, surely, presumably successful. Yeah.

Putting such troubling thoughts aside, Lambrac waited while business was discussed, which turned, quite naturally enough for Calimshan, to slavery. He studied the mosaic tiled floor quite intently, admiring the pattern. He might not have liked the concept, but, when in Calimshan... He'd already been paid with Jala's money and lived off their labour, even indulged in the odd massage and a dancing girl after his labours, so he could hardly complain. But still. It was all so terribly... inefficient. A automated fanning device would have done the slave's job just as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:14, Wed 15 July 2009.

Abbas nodded politely, giving more depth to his inclination of neck, but a significant step from obesience - this powerful noble figure knew and enjoyed her power, and for all her relaxed sensuality - the elf was no stone - she enjoyed her power more, cloaking the control in sammite rather than steel.
Fortunately the introduction and conversation with Fareeda had assisted in blunting much of the voluptuous ruler's effect... at least so far as that he could still think above the neck.

"We will keep your generous offer in mind, Mistress Ghusoon, and thank you for your courtesy of welcome," the elf sidestepped the question of details in favour of addressing her second conversational link.  Keeping a reserved and respectful distance, both in location and tone of discourse, Abbas continued,"If your security advisor is prepared, we can depart immediately to ensure safe delivery, and preferably before the heat of the day strengthens.

"By your leave, Mistress Ghusoon?"

All in all, this task in Calimshan had already proven his most enjoyable.

Jala regarded Jibril cooly as he began to inquire about the cost of slaves. It seemed business negotiations came as easy to her as idle chatter about the weather. "All the slaves and Jhasina you have seen around the villa are thorough-bred and in a perfect state of health - I do not accept anything less. They are brought in especially from Mezro, Tashalar and Tethyr, and individually assessed and inspected for the role they are to serve in my household. I keep well away from the common gutter-trash in the Shackles Ward, you see." She fixed the priest with an unwavering gaze and smiled faintly. "One hundred platinum per head, no less." The manner in which Jala discussed the slaves was disturbing. It was clear she saw them as nothing more than furniture, bought to improve the decor of her home - no more human beings than the luxurious divan she lay across. "I suppose the question is how well have the Magistrati been paying you?" She winked at him, stroking the back of her hand with two fingers.

"I do not know where he was planning to go - though I doubt he would have knowledge of the Nadhari, being from the Nelanther Isles. No, more likely he would have been picked up by some grotty festhall elsewhere in the sabban and have been wishing for a return to me after a week of mistreatment." She sighed and glanced at the floor. "Foolish slave. No wonder he never got anywhere better in life."

Sensing Abbas' reluctance to reveal anything about the nature of the Professor's expedition, Jala allowed herself a gentle laugh. "You moon elves are so stern and proper. Why don't you ever lie back and have fun like your wilder cousins, hm?" She laughed again and gestured at the chest. "By all means, take your leave. You are not slaves - unless you want to be?"

The Mistress laughed and looked over at Fareeda once more, seemingly have already forgotten about the presence of Lambrac. "You are an odd choice for such a venture, girl - why do you seek to risk that exquisite body of yours?" Jala looked her up and down, her tongue playing provocatively over her front teeth. "The horrible, bug-infested jungles are no place for that figure. Why not come and work for me instead? I think we both know what your real 'talents' are." She winked at the bard, biting the end of her finger. "The rewards would be endless."

Jibril laughed politely at the ridiculously high price for the slave. He stroked his oiled goatee. "Obviously, he is of the finest quality.  As for the Magistrati, I will just say that both you and they have similar interests--collecting rare baubles. I am sure that the jungles of Chult have a few such things hidden in their dark depths. A shame that you might not see them, since I have great loyalty to my church--but perhaps I could be persuaded to show them to you if I find them. I am much more amenable to such ideas when I am kept properly cooled and fanned in a sweltering jungle."

Fareeda averted her eyes out of habit, then quickly resumed her quiet posture. She fiddled as the others talked, but stole glance at the fine woman across from her. Her skin had started to glisten from the slight amount of sweat the heat was producing. When the Mistress spoke to her directly, Fareeda blushed deeply. "I am flattered and humbled by your compliments, but I am not worthy for your harem, Mistress. I am going on this trip for the pleasure of looking for fine, exotic slaves from the jungle, as well as being able to tell of the tales that will come from there. I am not a rich woman, Mistress, and there are many things that I would do for money." She bit her lip suggestivly.

Lambrac for his part stayed in his place and shuffled his feet. Was this a slaving expedition? These Calishites really needed a few good constructs around the place, or some better labour laws. At least he had no obligation to get involved, and could devote his time to the exploration of ruins and the acquisition of treasure, on commission for Mistress Ghusoon - who'd already moved on to a new toy, it seemed.

He'd had no great illusions as to his relationship with Jala, not around her palace, though those he did have had now been dashed. A light sigh on his lips, he shrugged on his backpack, and lifted the chest - an obvious sign that he was ready to go.

Jala shook her delicate head at Jibril's words. It was evident she had haggled with the best of them, and Jibril wasn't the best. "Do not fret, priest, I have ways of getting what I want."


She smiled and looked back at Fareeda. "Quite the budding entrepreneur aren't we? That is too bad," She looked the bard up and down again. "I wouldn't say 'not worthy'. A little rough around the edges but nothing I couldn't smooth out." She winked and gracefully leant over to a nearby plate of grapes. Plucking a juicy morsel and placing it into her mouth.

Noticing many of the group edging away and motioning to leave, the Mistress wafted at them with a free hand. "Very well, off you go. Do enjoy the jungles. Try not to catch too many diseases." Jala watched Fareeda turn to leave, her eyes lingering on the visible curve of the bard's backside. "That is if you're sure you can't stay an hour or so? I have the most wonderful Greengrass party planned! Food, drink, Jhasinas - everything you could ever desire and more."

Or, on the other hand, we could stay a while longer. A hour or so longer here meant Chult was an hour or so later. He looked to the Professor's employees to gauge their reaction. "It would be an excellent opportunity for us to become better acquainted, if we are to be working together." he suggested. Purely by reflex his eyes lingered on the dancer, though he knew it would be far from wise to pursue another woman while still in the presence of his last. "And Mistress Ghusoon's soirees are highly enjoyable."

Jibril sniffed loudly. "I think not. If I'm leaving here empty handed, I have no reason to stay." His eyes narrowed on Lambrac. "Well, not completely empty handed since you're coming with us, but I doubt you're worth a 100 platinums..."

Politely refusing Jala's invitation, and despite Lambrac's protests, the group turned and left the Mistress' 'bedchamber', the professor's chest in tow. The slave Valenduq waited by the door and turned on their arrival to lead them back out of the villa.

Following him, the newly increased party marched back through the corridors, across the entrance lobby and out into the garden. The two guards sniggered to each other as they passed but otherwise said nothing.

Outside, the day was fast drawing into the hours of late afternoon and the previous sea-shallows blue of the sky had grown to a much more imposing azure. Night could not be too far away and those native to Calimport knew that night time was when festivals like Greengrass could get dangerous...

"Well, of course, my services are worth far more than a hundred platinums." Lambrac responded defensively, pointedly ignoring any ulterior motives the priest might have had. Of course, trap construction was expensive, not to mention the hired spellcasting, and the need for healing and restoratives in case accidents arose. His funds were getting low, and his pockets light. Jala's payments were generally less of the monetary kind.

As they turned to leave, Lambrac bowed gracefully to his former employer. "Farewell, fair Mistress. May the gods grant me a swift and safe return so that I may gaze upon you once more." Please.

As they walked the darkening streets, Lambrac continued to carry the chest. It was destined for Professor Hingleswip, and he would carry out that task. "So, are you all bound for Chult with Professor Hingleswip on this expedition?" he said by way of conversation.

"The good professor appears to have an eye and need for skilled associates for his journeys," Abbas replied quietly, keeping pace with Lambrac, and eyes flicking from person to person met, from stairwells to join the upperwalkpath to walls and corners that would provide cover for or from trouble...  "As to where this particular journey heads, I have little knowledge," he shrugged slightly, unconcerned.

"We were retained to escort this cargo of supplies for the Professor," the elf added after thinking on his words and civility.  "One never knows much beyond the initial task, after all.

"How did you find Mistress Ghusoon as an employer?  The surroundings were certainly pleasant, but fair flowers in nature are as like to have thorns as sweet scents, so presumptions are dangerous," Abbas returned the conversation volley to the Ghusoon employee.

"A gentlemen never engages in scandalous gossip about a lady." Lambrac retorted. "But I half suspect she is a succubus - I jest, of course." I hope... "That is not so scurrilous; such rumours could only enhance the mistress's reputation, I'm sure."

He decided to explain, lest any of others begin mistaking the nature of his employment, like the priest seemed to have done. "I was - I am her security consultant, responsible for safeguarding her precious possessions, and her valuable person, with locks and traps and well-placed guards. I also operate as a retrievalist - fetching certain items or extracting payment as required. I have worked under Mistress Ghusoon for a number of jobs, and found her to be and fair and honourable employer." He neglected to list any other jobs he had with her, but they were hardly official, and for which he hadn't received payment.

"And what of you all? May I ask your names and know your roles with the good Professor?" The Lantanna spoke swift but melodiously, in a style that was almost elven.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:17, Tue 21 July 2009.

Linni bowed gracefully, a comical sight given her tiny stature. "My name is Linni, I am the most potent magical force this side of, well...Faerun..." She cleared her throat awkwardly, then continued. "I am also Professor Hingleswip's niece, though he may often forget it!"

Following Linni, Fareeda smiled warmly to Lambrac. "Well met, sir. I am Fareeda Haifa." She gestured at the mandolin slung across her back. "I am an entertainer of sorts. I can play a tune or two and a life in Calimport has taught me certain other skills."

"Although I would expect such, confirmation of a existing person in the know is always prudent and preferable to hear," Abbas replied to the retrieval agent's view as the group walked.

Lambrac's sharp security eye soon enough picked out that beneath his golden burnoose, Abbas wore a lightweight suit of chestnut leather armour studded with brass rivets.  Two thick shortsword sheaths - probably reinforced? - girded his hips, and there was the clear sign of a bow riding across his back.

The dark-haired elf moved fluidly, as was expected of his race, and seemed none to mighty of frame - again, expected.  His eyes were sharp, however, and his demeanour pleasant, if a touch distant.

"I am known here as Abbas Kareem, Lambrac.  I have served in a similar fashion to the merchant and lesser nobility castes - protection of goods and personage, primarily."

Lambrac bowed politely to each as they introduced themselves - well, nodded his head, given the chest in his arms. "Pleased to meet you, little gem." he said to Linni, using a traditional gnomish term of affection, in fluent Gnomish.

"As it does us all, fair flower of the desert." was his greeting to Fareeda, now back in Alzhedo.

"And well met to you, master elf. I'm sure I shall be honoured to work beside you." Clearly, Elven was a tongue he didn't know.

"Speaking of security, we should beware this place, few Calimport streets are safe after dark." He passed the chest under his left arm so he could loosen his rapier with his right and have it ready, though he didn't draw it. Such would be a threatening action. Too bad he did not follow his own advice this time, having too much attention to the two women, and not to the shadows.


OOC: Spot 4, Listen 5 - some security consultant I am!
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:24, Tue 21 July 2009.

"Jibril, Magistrati of Azuth."  The priest mumbled to Lambrac, while self-absorbed in his own thoughts.  "Too bad you didn't create a chastity belt for Jala Ghusoon--for her security of course."  Idly, he listened to the others exchange greetings, but he appeared more interested in the sights on the streets.

"Agreed," Abbas agreed simply, mirroring Lambrac's action on the opposite side of the highway through Calimshan's quarters.  The conversation certainly did not assist in listening for trouble, but such exchanges made the appearance of the party less remarkable, and perhaps would develop into business opportunities - in fact, one never knew if perhaps Lambrac was part of the Mistress' delivery, so conversation sounding-out might be even more important down the road... or flightway, as the bard coined.

The group travelled back the way they had come across the city as daylight began to fade. The walkways had grown busier since the outward journey with much of Calimport's nobility having emerged from their villas and estates to take in the festival - but apart from having to slow their pace, the party was not interrupted.

Down below, the streets had now taken more of a guise of a carnival rather than the earlier market fiesta. Strange plinths and figures clad in lurid costumes moved slowly through the packed thoroughfares and all kinds of acts and performances lined the sides of the roads - jugglers, fire eaters, puppet shows and belly-dancing the most common. Yet all the while the bellows and shouts of merchants and stall owners could still be heard over the general murmur of the festival. Greed, it seemed, didn't believe in respite.

Continuing on, the party slowly passed back out of the Khanduq ward, following the wider byway between the Axash and Otahl sabbans of the Emerald ward. They had almost reached the Marekh sabban when they came to a line of twelve amlakkar guards, arranged to block the byway. Their chain mail gleamed a deep blue in the last embers of the dying sun and the nose guards of their studded round-helms almost reached their lips. They carried short hook-pikes in one hand and slim red kite shields in the other - on which a symbol of a glowing emerald set in gold revealed them as the Sultan Nasim el Pesarkhal's own guard.

Their apparent commander stepped forward to meet the group, his weathered Calishite face and grim expression evidence of a long service to the Sultan. He spoke up in throaty Alzhedo, his chest puffing out as if to emphasise his words."This byway is closed by the will of Sultan Nasim. You will descend immediately to the street."

He looked over the group for a moment, arching his brow at the sight of Linni and Abbas, then positively scowling at the scantily clad sight of Fareeda. He turned to Jibril, assessing him as the apparent leader of the group. "Magistrati you should know better than to bring your slaves up onto the byway. Especially that Jhasina," he gestured rudely at Fareeda. "Just because the temple is on your side, does not mean you can take liberties."

He sneered, looking back at the now-empty byway stretching off into the gloom. "Regardless, the Sultan will be using this section of the wall shortly and I am afraid you too must descend. I assume your slaves are capable of seeing you safely to the temple?" He gestured at the stone staircase nearby that dropped sharply down to the street and waited for them to make off.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:40, Tue 21 July 2009.

Jibril laughed heartily at the guard's comments.  "Slaves? Oh you do not know me good man. I certainly wouldn't buy this circus menagerie for my slaves.  I have much better taste than that. These are all free men and women."  He peeked over the guard's shoulders, while clutching his holy symbol.  "Sultan Nasim, you say? I hear he's a fine and prosperous man.  Does he have any need of the services of Azuth perhaps?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:17, Wed 22 July 2009.

Lambrac gaze about in wonderment at the festival, enjoying the entertainment on display, and passing a eye over the wares for sale, hoping to find a good enough vase for the new trap in the north wing. But he had enough to carry at the moment.

Then he stopped short at the appearance of the guards, though he was not alarmed. Not every confrontation with armed people had to end in battle. He nodded his head in greeting. "And I am a free citizen of Lantan." he added, emphasising both the 'free' and the 'Lantan', whose cannon-bedecked ships were the fear of the Sword Coast and the Shining Sea.

"Or maybe the sultan requires a security consultant, specialising in locks and traps?" he suggested, hopeful of a more prestigious employment.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:58, Thu 23 July 2009.

The guard seemed to ease up a bit as Jibril began reasoning with him. The priest's polite tone and courteous manner were evidently appreciated. "The Sultan has his own methods of contacting Azuth," The man smiled. "He does after all belong to the Guild Arcane."

"I take it you are heading to the Marekh Sabban?" He gestured down at the street with his hook-pike, "Take the street west past the Sultan's Cape tavern and you will soon reach the Marekh gate, that way is a quiet neighbourhood and you will get no trouble." He smiled again and gestured a farewell.

Lambrac then began to speak to the guard, and the man cut him off, his demeanour quickly switching back to one of hostility. "You dare speak to me garab?¹ I do not care where you are from, just get off this byway before I throw you off. I will not tell you again." He glared at the rogue for a few moments before pushing past him to speak to the next group of people to arrive at the blockade.

1: Garab - An offensive Calishite term for a foreigner or outsider.

"Unless there is reason to doubt his word, perhaps our travel back that path would be wisest."  Not wishing to cause further dispute, and seeking to open some room between the party and the group following behind, Abbas nodded to Lambrac and started the escort down to the streets.

The increased jeopardy was not lost on the elf, however, and he freed both blades, laying them flat upon his arms and using a finger to snug in his burnoose to prevent too loose a movement revealing his armed status.  On the paths above, courtesy required arms be kept sheathed; the rule of the streets required one be ready to defend one's self... especially when carrying a chest... especially when trouble was likely, if not a given.

Lambrac bowed his head with an obsequious smile, and shuffled to the back of the party, away from the sharp and pointy pikes. By Gond, these people could be uncivilised barbarians, for all their pretensions otherwise.

"Yes, whatever gets us fastest and safest back to the good professor's residence." he replied softly to Abbas.

Now gnomes, they were civilised.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:00, Wed 22 July 2009.

Fareeda hid behind Abbas as the guard confronted them, wincing as he gestured her way. She did not need to be asked twice to descend to street-level and hurriedly made her way down the steps as soon as the guard captain ordered.

Linni considered for a moment what bravado this racist, irate guardsman would show when set alight, but a glance at the eleven other pikes pointing at the darkening sky behind him made her think twice. Glaring at the man, she grudgingly followed Fareeda and began to descend.

Jibril grimaced as he glanced at the nasty street below.  Just touching the street would disgust him, and he had no slave with a rug to save him the disgrace.  But there would be no arguing with the guard, and he cursed Jala Ghusoon for not selling him that slave now.  He looked over at Abbas and wondered if the elf could support his weight to allow him to ride piggy back. Not likely.  With a final loud sigh, he decided he would need to purchase a new pair of slippers after this trip.

Descending the stairway, the group carried on in the direction the guard had advised them to go. The sun was fast setting over the city now and long shadows criss-crossed their path.

They passed along a quiet backstreet, mostly empty - entirely empty in fact, of any other people. The faded wooden sign of the Sultan's Cape marked the tavern twenty feet down the street on the right, its dilapidated exterior an unusual sight in the wealthy streets of the Emerald ward. It seemed open by the light under the door, yet all the window shutters were fastened and the door shut fast.

Something was not right.

A glance up at the byway they had just come from revealed that the blockade had dispersed. People were moving along uninterrupted and the amlakkar guards had long since disappeared. It appeared they were the only people made to descend...
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:14, Wed 22 July 2009.

Jibril appeared oblivious to the empty street, other than that he was relieved that he was not been brushed up against by the unwashed masses.  His attention appeared to be on his feet--frowning at every step he has to take on this disgraceful pathway.

"A moment - I have some grit inside my boot," Abbas offered public, stopping to twist his soft footwear to and fro as tho attempting to work a small piece of stone to one side to walk more comfortably.

"No street is this quiet in Calimshan, and never during a festival period.  And yonder tavern closed and shuttered in dusk at festival time, when someone's inside and able to draw breath?  he offered in quiet, under his breath speech to the clustered group.  "We were the only group sent below - if it had been simply dislike of outlander members of our escort collective, they would have needed no subterfuge of Sultan's order to deny us the skylane and keep the other traffic moving.

"Whether the guard was working with some group seeking us ill or sent us this way to cause difficulty, I cannot say, but this street feels wrong. Let us backtrack and take a more public path - this road reads too much of 'foolish foreigners walking into trouble'.  Perhaps one of the ladies would be so good as to 'realize' something was forgotten or needs to be first picked up at a merchant booth, and necessitating our travel another way?"

He looked about, not liking where this was going. It seemed they'd been set up. Not good, not good at all. The Sultan's own guard? Perhaps they should be honoured to receive such high attention?

He wasn't a lady, but he announced anyway "Perhaps we could swing by the bazaar instead? I really ought to find a gift for my Mistress on my return, and could do with a new wire-cutter myself." He scanned the shadows, on the alert now for lurking thugs.


OOC: Bluff 22, Spot 14, Listen 8

Jibril is roused out of his obliviousness. "I see. Perhaps this is a good time to protect myself from a stray arrow." He waved his arms in a dramatic fashion, as he chanted a prayer.

_{OOC: Cast Mage Armor}

"Certainly," Abbas agreed, having "removed" the problem in his boot.  "We're ahead of time.  We can cut back this way after you purchase your necessaries." He softly stepped his boot against the ground a couple times as though to confirm the problem pebble was gone, and gestured for the others to head back.

Fareeda listened to Abbas and nodded, fear in her eyes. She was a dancer, not a soldier and the idea of coming under attack was enough to fill her with dread.

"Yes, let's go through the bazaars instead. I have been needing to purchase some more equipment for the journey ahead."

She coughed awkwardly and turned around to walk back in the direction they had came - yet something caught her eye and she stopped suddenly, frozen in fear...

As Fareeda turned around to head back down the street, something dark emerged from an alleyway to her left, pacing slowly out into the street to block her path. Another followed, then another - three figures who stood out like holes in the air, their black silk shozukus, tabi boots and face scarves revealing only their eyes to the fading sun. The rustle of leather could be heard under their black uniforms and a variety of curving scabbards hung from their waists. Their eyes looked Fareeda up and down, as if deciding what they would do with her gorgeously curved figure.

In the other direction, another pair of black-clad assassins stepped into view, along with another man at their head. This one was dressed quite differently, in an exquisite yellow thobe and white turban. The amount of material needed to make such clothes must alone have cost a fortune, for his girth was huge and each step he took seemed a laborious effort. A grey beard hung from his pudgy face and jewels of all shapes and sizes gleamed from the rings on his fat fingers. A large sapphire hung like an amulet from the gold chain around his neck.

This man, whoever he was, seemed quiet important, a Massatyr or Ruais perhaps. A more pressing concern, however, was that he had the group trapped, with both directions of the street cut off...
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:52, Thu 23 July 2009.

"Greetings musadhyars! A fine evening to greet our wonderful city's journey into the summer months, would you not agree?" The man made the effort to bow, but the size of his waist prevented anything more than a slight nodding of the head. "I was beginning to worry that you would stick to the byways forever and leave me with no chance to make a proper introduction!" He laughed as elequently as was possible given his morbidly obese stature. "Fortunately the amlakkar are not known for their vigilance. Do you really think Sultan Nasim would bother with the hassle of walking on a night such as this? He is a wizard you know."

He smiled and held his arms out wide. "Anyway, my name is Ubdall Kareed and I come to you this evening with a..." He gestured his hands around in the air as if seeking the right word, "Proposition."

"My employer has recently become aware of the good Professor, Kraust Hingleswip, and over the past few months has taken a great interest in his work." His light brown eyes scanned the group with a hint of arrogance and mock courtesy. "Especially that relating to the jungles of Chult."

"We know something of what he seeks in those jungle labyrinths - more so than what he has told you I expect. I must say I feel some admiration, if not a little surprise, that you have all thrown yourselves into his service without considering the dangers he will be leading you, like sheep, into the heart of." He smiled, revealing a pair of gold teeth in his upper jaw. "Brave, but naive."

He gestured to the chest that Lambrac held high on his shoulder. "The contents of that chest are quite beyond any of you. The old gnome is a fool for not fetching it himself." He stood up tall and crossed his arms, his expression of mock courtesy replaced with a more serious visage. "This is what will happen. You will give me that chest, now, and leave. You will not return to the Professor's residence and you will not journey with him to Chult. Do this and you will live. Do not..." He smiled broadly and waited for their answer.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:49, Thu 14 July 2011.

Jibril crossed his arms and faced the obese, bejeweled man undaunted.  "What is it that you want, sir? Do you seek to block a Magistrati of Azuth?"

Lambrac took a step forward and made a short and respectful bow, at least as far as the chest would allow him. He made a friendly smile. "Well met and good evening this Greengrass. I am Lambrac SeKilderic, a free citizen of Lantan." he introduced, figuring it was worth a second shot. "I've been hired to deliver this chest and its contents to Professor Hingleswip. If you wish to purchase it, you'll have to negotiate with him. Honour demands that I see it safely to the professor first - and I will not bow to street muggers, no matter how uncommon." He ended with a steel edge in his voice, one he did not feel inside.

OOC: Diplomacy 22
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:30, Thu 23 July 2009.

Jibril bristled at the threat, while ignoring the babbling Lambrac next to him.  "How dare you! I won't be spoken to in that manner by someone who is over-accessorized in such gaudy jewelry." Although Jibril did wonder if one of those rings would be enough to fetch him Jala Ghusoon's slave. "If you want this chest, come waddle over here and get it yourself!"

He whispered to Lambrac. "Now let's see if you're truly worth that 100 platinums."

Ubdall listened to Lambrac and Jibril with his arms folded over his huge belly and a wry smile on his lips. He laughed haughtily at Jibril's words, gesturing at the priest's own garb with a fat hand. "You are not one to talk about 'gaudiness' friend. And do you really think a mere acolyte will be missed at the temple?" He arched his brow as if waiting for an answer that would never come. "I doubt those wrinkled Azuthians will even send out a search."

He then turned to Lambrac, smiling at the young rogue's words. "Well aren't you a well-spoken young garab! Lantan you say? I have a nice little slave girl from Lantan - Gond certainly forged your women some nice backsides I'll say that much!" He laughed again and the tyres of fat around his waist leapt up and down with each roaring guffaw. "Unfortunately there will be no such negotiations. In truth, I could never have let you leave here - the Professor will not be allowed aid for this expedition."

"I shall leave you in the hands of my Drensiir assassins - I assure you they are most 'capable' hosts."

Smiling, Ubdall waved a hand and stepped backward, disappearing through a shimmering blue portal that sparked into nothingness as soon as he went through. The five 'Drensiirs' began to advance in his place, drawing curved scimitars and kukris.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:35, Sun 26 July 2009.

       a   b   c   d   e
     |www|   |   |   |www|1
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|2
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|ASS|   |ASS|www|3
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |ddd|4
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|5
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|6
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |ABB|   |www|7
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|LAM|LIN|JIB|www|8
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |FAR|   |www|9
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|10
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|11
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|12
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |ASS|   |www|13
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|ASS|   |ASS|www|14
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|15

Key:
ASS - Assassin - AC/T/FF: 14/12/12
FAR - Fareeda
JIB - Jibril
LIN - Linni
LAM - Lambrac
ABB - Abbas
www - Wall
ddd - Door

Roll initiative and post your first round action as described in the 'Posting Etiquette' thread. RP the action first then put the complexities in orange at the end. Example:

Korgan rushed forward and swung his axe at the nearest goblin, missing by inches.

Initiative: 18
Move: G7
Standard: Attack AC14 - Miss (13)

AC/T/FF: 18/13/15

Effects: Bless

Dice rolls in < small >

I'll NPC Fareeda and Linni tommorow, too tired now, though Fareeda may be rejoining us.

Lambrac stared after the vanishing Ubdall. "Hey! We can talk about this!" he protested. "This is terribly uncivilised behaviour!"

Too late, the fat man had gone, and Lambrac was left staring at the advancing assassins. "Ah, perhaps you may be more agreeable?"


Initiative: 3

AC/T/FF: 15/13/12

_{08:55, Today: Lambrac rolled 3 using 1d20+1. init.}
This message was last edited by the player at 01:02, Mon 27 July 2009.

Jibril ground his teeth while watching Ubdall disappear. "I'm going to kill that fat bastard next time I see him," he cursed solemnly to Lambrac.  "But now, let's rid ourselves of this problem."  Jibril studied the 5 assassins to determine who was the most likely leader amongst them. He searched for the burliest and most commanding one of them. When satisfied, he whirled his had in a looping fashion around his face, turning it into a horrible visage as he glared at the rogue.

Initiative: 2
Cast Cause Fear on leader, DC 15.
AC/T/FF: 14/10/10
Effects: Mage Armor


04:55, Today: Jibril rolled 8 using 1d20+4. Spellcraft. Attempting to identify blue shimmering portal that Ubdall escaped in.

14:43, Yesterday: Secret Roll: Jibril rolled 2 using 1d20-6. Jibril Initiative.

Linni scowled as the fat wizard disappeared. As was usually the way in this city, the rich would let their minions do the work for them.

Stepping over to the nearest wall, she muttered an incantation and hurled a glowing orb of liquid flame, about two inches in diametere, at one of the assassins. The flaming ball hit its target, bursting into flame on his shozuku.

Initiative: 7
Free: 5 ft step to D7
Standard: Lesser orb of fire at D3 assassin - hit AC22 for 4 fire damage.
AC/T/FF: 13/13/11

13:50, Today: Linni rolled 4 using 1d8. damage.
13:46, Today: Linni rolled 22 using 1d20+2. ranged touch attack.
13:46, Today: Linni rolled 7 using 1d20+2. Initiative.

Fareeda, recoiled at the sight of three assassins advancing on her. She wanted to run away but a glance behind revealed the sight of a further two blocking any escape route. Sucking deep at the air to calm her nerves, she took her lute from her back and began to play.

The song was a thunderous melody, resonating back to the many battles and victories of Calimshan's past. The others around her could not help but be inspired by her rhythmical strumming and felt the strength in their arms and in their hearts begin to grow almost supernaturally.

Initiative: 12
MEA: Draw lute
Standard: Bardic music - Inspire courage (+1 on saves vs charm/fear, +1 on all attack/damage rolls)

AC: 14/12/12

13:58, Today: Fareeda rolled 12 using 1d20+2. Initiative.

Abbas' readiness proved itself as the elf launched into action.  His keen eyes had marked the two groups of trouble-makers, and the disappearance of the mage was all the flame needed to light the candle of his action.
Leaping back, past his allies, Abbas spun out his burnoose and pivoted to dart forward to engage the group of three assassins.  "Clear a path free first, then support withdrawl or rout these vermin," he suggested to the others as he danced past.

Two thick-bladed shortswords emerged with a flourish from beneath the golden burnoose as Abbas attacked.  At the last moment, he checked his swing, parrying off a blow and merely thumping the lead assassin in the chest in warning, choosing to instead keep a better defensive position against the 3:1 numbers instead of overcommitting.


OOC: AC/F/T: 24/13/21
Combat Expertise at 1, of course :)
Mv to C12 and whiff

<sub>17:31, Today: Abbas rolled 23 using 1d20+5. init.

17:40, Today: Abbas rolled 8 using 1d20+6. attack.</sub>


This message was last edited by the player at 01:03, Tue 28 July 2009.

Lambrac shifted the chest to under his left arm, then drew his rapier. The Lantanna stepped into the space vacated by Abbas, standing valiantly to shield the women from the assassins.


Initiative: 3

AC/T/FF: 15/13/12

Move: Draw Rapier
Move: Move to C7

_{08:55, Today: Lambrac rolled 3 using 1d20+1. init.}

And so came the first real test for this unlikely group of 'expeditionists'. With masked assassins closing from both sides, things seemed grim.

The graceful and self-proclaimed protector of the group, Abbas, surged back through his comrades to meet the greater threat of three Drensiirs, his broad bladed shortswords flashing in the gloom. He lashed out at their apparent leader, a tall man armed with a sweeping falchion, yet his nimble stab could not pierce the man's leather undercoat.

The three assassins facing the elf snarled and surged forward to meet his challenge. They swarmed around him, their curved blades slashing and hacking - yet they could not penetrate his defence. Abbas moved like a dancer, dodging and weaving between the wild swings, his blades deflecting and parrying with ease.

The other two assassins stepped forward and hurled silver-edged throwing stars into the main group. One sailed over the head of Linni, curving into the wall where it shattered a window pane. The other swerved round in a wide arc, biting into Lambrac's shoulder.

Fareeda began to play her song, each note humming eerily along with the clashes of steel and grunts of anguish, yet they seemed to inspire a certain flame in the blood, urging those around her on into the fight.

Suddenly, in the midst of the battle, a strange feeling of resilience began to resound through the group. Perhaps it was Fareeda's tune that has affected them so, yet the source seemed to emanate from elsewhere.

Linni took a step to one side and hurled a globe of fire at the assassin who had attacked her. The tiny ball of flame exploded as it struck the man, drenching him in liquid flame that quickly consumed his shozuku. He thrashed and thumped at the flames, screaming as he dropped to the dusty floor.

Lambrac stepped forward and drew his rapier, summoning his courage to face the remaining assassin to the north.

Jibril, seemingly unaware for some time that there was even a threat of violence, was the last to act. Already irritated at having to walk without a rug through the streets of Calimport, his anger was only enhanced by the advancing assassins. He lifted his staff to point at the group Abbas had begun to fight and muttered a brief prayer. Nothing happened at first, and the elf's three assailants pressed their attack, trying to find a gap in Abbas' guard. However, after a few seconds the two assassins flanking the leader hesitated in their assault, as if suddenly unsure of their chances to defeat him. They continued to swing their weapons but appeared afraid, almost shaken.

       a   b   c   d   e
     |www|   |   |   |www|1
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|2
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|3
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|ASS|   |ASS|ddd|4
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|5
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|6
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |LAM|LIN|www|7
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |JIB|www|8
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |FAR|   |www|9
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|10
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|11
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |ABB|   |www|12
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|ASS|ASS|ASS|www|13
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|14
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|15

Key:
ASS - Assassin - AC/T/FF: 14/12/12
FAR - Fareeda
JIB - Jibril
LIN - Linni
LAM - Lambrac
ABB - Abbas
www - Wall
ddd - Door

This message was last edited by the GM at 13:27, Mon 10 Oct 2011.

Lambrac cursed in melodious Lantanese as the shuriken whipped into his shoulder. Damn it all, he liked that shirt. Added to the earlier dart wound and exhaustion in the service of Jala, he was really not in the mood for this.

He glanced ahead and behind, trying to decide which to attend to first. Three assassin in front, two one behind. It had been quite a clever trap, he decided, and he had to compliment Ubdall Kareed on it, if nothing else, when or if they next met. Now, if he moved to support Abbas against the three assassins, who was certainly out-numbered, that would leave the one behind free to attack the weaker spellcasters. Ah, but Linni could hurl fire and claimed to a potent magical force. Fair enough then.

He wandered over to stand beside Abbas, still with the chest tucked under one arm. "Need a hand?" he asked the elf.


AC/T/FF: 15/13/12

Double Move: B12 D11
This message was last edited by the player at 02:56, Fri 31 July 2009.

"If the way behind is clear, a colleague's assistance is always appreciated," Abbas replied deflecting a pair of strike and managing another riposte into the leader's chest to remind him of distance, then taking a 5' step back to force the assassins to keep moving towards him.

"Not further, friend; let them come to us," he requested as Lambac showed inclination to move up and engage the three.


OOC: 5' back.
whiff on attack
 - diceroller doesn't like me
_{08:25, Today: Abbas rolled 12 using 1d20+7. attack.}

"Oh crap." Flustered and like a fool, Jibril moved to challenge the lone assassin behind him, whirling his elegant quarterstaff like a baton.  The weapon made a pretty purple blur, but otherwise, he missed his target by a long-shot.

Effects: Mage Armor
AC/T/FF: 14/10/10

_{08:01, Today: Jibril rolled 3 using 1d20+1. Quarterstaff attack.}
This message was last edited by the player at 13:15, Thu 30 July 2009.

Linni, happy with her attack on the first assassin, switched her attention to the next. She spoke again, her tiny high-pitched voice sounding comical in draconic, and hurled another bolt of fire. The orb struck true once more, bursting alight across the man's chest.

Standard: Cast lesser orb of fire at B4 assassin, hits AC17 for 5 damage.
AC/T/FF: 13/13/11

14:00, Today: Linni rolled 5 using 1d8. damage.
14:00, Today: Linni rolled 17 using 1d20+2. ranged touch.

Fareeda, unsure what more she can do to aid the group, stood to one side, hoping the others would be able to see off the threat.

AC: 14/12/12
This message was last edited by the player at 14:43, Fri 31 July 2009.

Abbas continued to fend off the three assassins to the south single handedly, but as yet could not land any blows of his own. Another stabbing counter attack pulled harmlessly off the leader's chest armour.

The assassin's replied with their own barrage of blows yet could not come close to penetrating the elf's defence. Jibril's spell seemed to have had a real effect on two of the assassins and it seemed almost as if they had no will to carry on the fight. To the north, the last remaining assassin moved forward and swung a heavy falchion at Lambrac, missing him by inches.

From the tavern door by the still-burning corpse of the first assassin, sounds of another combat began to mingle with the one on the street. One of the gloomy window panes shattered outwards, revealing sounds of stell clashing on steel, wood shattered and the general shouts and curses one would expect to hear in a bar brawl. Were there more assassins inside?

Ignoring the comotion, Linni hurled another orb at the Drensiir now engaged with lambrac, yet in her attempts to avoid the Lantan rogue, missed the assassin as well.

Lambrac retreats from the assassin's attack, moving up to support Abbas. As he moves, the Drensiir facing him surges forward, sensing a weakness and his falchion slices into the rogue's turning hip.

Jibril turned to meet the lone assassin Lambrac had fled from, his quarterstaff prodding ineffectually at the man's guard.

       a   b   c   d   e
     |www|   |   |   |www|1
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|2
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|3
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |ASS|ddd|4
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|5
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|ASS|   |   |www|6
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |JIB|LIN|www|7
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|8
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |FAR|   |www|9
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|10
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |LAM|www|11
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |ABB|   |www|12
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|ASS|ASS|ASS|www|13
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|14
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|15

Key:
ASS - Assassin - AC/T/FF: 14/12/12
FAR - Fareeda
JIB - Jibril
LIN - Linni
LAM - Lambrac
ABB - Abbas
www - Wall
ddd - Door

This message was last edited by the GM at 15:04, Fri 31 July 2009.

Twisting aside from a strike that would have torn a delightful hole through his abdomen, Abbas used his thick blades to parry blows from both assassins seeking to flank the elf.  His grace, however, is evident, and he danced back into position, refusing to allow the threesome opportunity to attack Fareeda and Linni.

In a somewhat obscure method of taunting the leader, Abbas struck for the third time in the exact same spot on the assassin leader, the probing strike confirming yet again that the armour was proof enough to turn back elven steel.

Point made, the party's defender again disengaged and stepped back to balk efforts by the rogues to push past.


_{14:07, Today: Abbas rolled 12 using 1d20+7. attack.}
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Fri 31 July 2009.

Breaking a sweat, Jibril continued to swing futilely at the assassin in front of him.  His clothes were getting dirtier by the moment, frustrating him even further.


Effects: Mage Armor
AC/T/FF: 14/10/10

_{13:26, Today: Jibril rolled 6 using 1d20+2. Quarterstaff attack. I hate these dice.}

The assassins attacking Abbas pressed on, desperate to find an opening amongst the elf's dancing parries and feints. The Drusiir leader managed to bat the elf's blades away with his scimitar to land a vicious slash across Abbas' upper arm with the kukri in his off hand.

The remaining assassin to the north snarled as Jibril confronted him and he lunged forward to attack the new threat - however his falchion sailed harmlessly over Jibril's head.

The falchion bit deeply into his hip, and Lambrac grounded his teeth against the pain. He cursed his ill-luck that saw him out here, on the streetm, encumbered by chest and tools, and both exits covered. He just couldn't run away.

He dropped the chest to his feet, hoping to Gond that there was nothing too fragile inside, and stood protectively over it. He waved the rapier ineffectually at the assassin. "It seems we're long past the point of diplomacy." he spat.

AC/T/FF: 15/13/12

Free: Drop chest
Standard: Attack

_{10:08, Today: Lambrac rolled 8 using 1d20+3. attack.}

EDIT: Should be a 9 with bard song
This message was last edited by the player at 02:26, Mon 03 Aug 2009.

Jibril was feeling that this whole fighting thing was much overrated. Nonetheless, his adrenaline was pumping, and he could not help but laugh at the assassin as his weapon went sailing over his head.  He bit his lip, as his quarterstaff when flailing hopelessly past his attacker again.

Effects: Mage Armor
AC/T/FF: 14/10/10

_{09:06, Today: Jibril rolled 8 using 1d20+2. Quarterstaff attack.}

Linni stepped north, trying to get a better angle on the assassin fighting Jibril. She speaks again and throws another orb of fire at the masked attacker but it goes well wide, leaving another scorch mark on the wall behind him.

Free: 5ft step to d6
Standard: Lesser orb of fire - miss AC7

10:40, Today: Linni rolled 7 using 1d20+2. ranged touch attack.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:42, Mon 03 Aug 2009.

Things were getting desperate. With Abbas and Lambrac being overwhelmed at one end of the street and an assassin marauding through the spellcasters at the other, it seemed Ubdall's ambush might well end this adventure before it had even begun.

Abbas continued to battle valiantly against his three assailants, dodging and weaving through their attacks. However despite his blades' efficiency in deflecting attacks, they still could not find a mark of their own.

His assailants had better luck, with the assassins' leader delivering a nasty slash across the elven warrior's upper arm. Elsewhere, the Drensiir attacking Jibril missed the priest with a heavy swing of his falchion.

Fareeda continued to stand around helplessly, though as the only member of the group not currently engaged with the enemy, she was free to watch the Sultan's Cape tavern where the sounds of a brawl inside seemed to be escalating.

All of a sudden the tavern door burst open and a large orc appeared in the doorway, stepping over the burning corpse of the downed assassin, a morning star held in one hand. A sort of controlled anger flashed in his eyes as he assessed the scene.

Linni hurled another bolt at Jibril's assailant but missed again, the fiery orb scorching the wall behind him.

Lambrac dropped the chest, which hit the floor with a loud thud. The assassins' attention moved away from Abbas for a second as they recognised their objective. The Lantanese rogue stepped forward to challenge one of the Drensiirs flanking the leader, his rapier flashing wide in a challenge.

Jibril continued to hold his opponent back with his quarterstaff, threatening to give him a very sore head should he drop his guard.

       a   b   c   d   e
     |www|   |   |   |www|1
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|2
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|3
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |ORC|ASS|ddd|4
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|5
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|ASS|   |LIN|www|6
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |JIB|   |www|7
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|8
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |FAR|   |www|9
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|10
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|11
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |ABB|LAM|www|12
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|ASS|ASS|ASS|www|13
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|14
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|15

Key:
ASS - Assassin - AC/T/FF: 14/12/12
FAR - Fareeda
JIB - Jibril
LIN - Linni
LAM - Lambrac
ABB - Abbas
ORC - Orc
www - Wall
ddd - Door

The large orc grinned like a happy child as he stepped over a burning body with nary a glance downward.   Striding quickly, the seemingly lightly armored orc braced his large shield for impact and moved to the Calishite by the fancy-lad with the long stick.
"A stick against a knife" he thought with a silent chuckle. "This one REALLY needs my help".

The orc, who seemed a bit cleaner and better groomed than most of his kind, swung his morningstar, not with a savage war-cry or a call to the savage gods of the orcs, but with a simple, grunted statement:

THIS is for your boss interrupting my drinking!


Free: 5 foot step
Standard:  Attack

AC/T/FF  18/12/16

Effects: Dragon Aura= Toughness (DR1/Magic)

06:11, Today: Krogan rolled 19 using 1d20+4. tohit with morningstar.
06:11, Today: Krogan rolled 12 using 1d8+4. morningstar damage.


EDIT:  If the bard song affects me, please add +1 to the rolls.



He then turned his large head to look at the colorful man with the long stick.

Good evening!  Nice day for a fight, eh?

The orc chuckled at his own joke, showing the cleric of The Patron of Mages a full set of remarkably clean orc teeth and tusks.

Lambrac jabbed his rapier at the assassin, though it proved to be pointless, both metaphorically and literally. He sighed; a stand-up fight really wasn't his forte. He shrugged off his backpack and let it fall beside the chest. Perhaps he could move a fair bit more gracefully now.


Standard: Attack 10
Move: Drop backpack, become unencumbered

AC/T/FF: 15/13/12

Effects: Inspire Courage

_{19:52, Today: Lambrac rolled 10 using 1d20+4. attack (+1).}

Forget about the scimitar; it's always the kukri that takes you in the end, Abbas reminded himself.  Still a last moment adjustment of position had meant the blow was only very serious instead of lethal, and though the bleeding wound hurt like hoolies, being alive to feel the pain was more than fair a trade off in the scales of sensation.

The assassin leader, however, flush with success, made the cardinal error of smirking and settling on his heels.  Abbas lunged forward, trapping both blades together inside his shortswords.  When the leader reflexively spread them wide to regain balance for fighting, Abbas' sword had already begun a strike between the anticipated opening and struck home!

Then, of course, Abbas carefully stepped back, blades and feet weaving defensively.


_{13:51, Today: Abbas rolled 15 using 1d20+7. attack.
13:52, Today: Abbas rolled 5 using 1d6. dmg.
Dmg: 6(+1 bardic song ftw)}

Jibril recoiled at the ugliness now beside him, but he did not let it dissuade him from letting his quarterstaff finally thwack the assassin in front of him--perhaps a moment too late, but he was still going to beat the damn rogue anyway.

Initiative: 2
AC/T/FF: 14/10/10
Effects: Mage Armor



_{06:15, Today: Jibril rolled 4 using 1d6+1. Quarterstaff dmg.
06:12, Today: Jibril rolled 14 using 1d20+2. Quarterstaff attack.}

Suddenly, a cloaked man was in the street moving into position moments before the Orc entered the scene.

Moving dexterously around the flame-ridden corpse, he centered himself in the street proper and surveyed the scene. No sign of the boss. Four assassins remaining. Hmm... a moon elf... Those look like Azuthian garbs on that man. Another elf, what in the hells is this? A gnome... halfling maybe... and a... woman. Wonderful. The man who surveyed the scene was cloaked in such a way that his ethnicity was hidden, but he stood slightly below the height of your average human male, and a had a thin frame. A bow was gripped in his hand.

Pointing to the nearest assassin, the cloaked figure looked back at the orc and nodded. "Take him first." As soon as he'd pointed out the target to the orc who followed quickly behind him, an arrow was suddenly notched to the man's bow and leaped forth. As he tried to avoid striking the olive-skinned man however, the shot was hurried and not as accurate as it could have been.

Atk: 19 (15 if assassin is engaged in melee combat), 1 damage.
16:33, Today: Thaniel rolled 19,1 using 1d20+4,1d8. Longbow Atk B6 Assassin.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:39, Mon 03 Aug 2009.

Krogan snorted and grinned.

"'Attack the nearest enemy'.  Thank you, my friend, I never would have thought of that!"

Krogan chuckles as he swings his morning star.

Thaniel rolled his eyes.

"It's a method of intimidation, my good man." The hooded figure spoke with a smile from beneath his cloak. "When you single out some poor soul in the heat of combat, allowing them to see the men who are about to deliver them to whatever God saw fit to grant them life, talking about them as if they were nothing more then a small impediment in the road - like a sheep before a raging chariot - it instills no small amount of terror in said sheep... er, poor soul." The man sighed. "Go fight normally! See? That doesn't have the same foreboding ring to it."

The man spoke almost absent-mindedly as he arrow flew forward and he began notching the next one.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:49, Tue 04 Aug 2009.

"Oh shut up both of you! Do I need to take care of this rogue all by myself?" Jibril braces for another swing from the assassin.

Krogan chuckled at Thaniel's words.

"AH!  That IS a good point, my friend.  Ok, how's this then?"

He looked at the assassin, showing a lot of teeth as he smiled.

"Hello there, sir!  I'm going to kill you now, and then step over your dead body and then forget  you ever existed.  Then I'm gonna kill your friends.  THEN I'm gonna get back to my drink, which will probably still be cold after I've finished killing all of you."

The burly orc glanced over at the fancily dressed man with the staff.

"And a good evening to YOU, sir!" He said cheerfully.

Linni, seeing Jibril's assailant taken care of, turned her attention to the battle at the other end of the street. Waving her hands about, she spoke an incantation that seemed to resound over the battlefield.

Cast sleep centred c13 - to take effect at the beginning of next round
AC/T/FF: 13/13/11
This message was last edited by the player at 10:52, Tue 04 Aug 2009.

Just as the assassins seemed to be getting the upper hand in the battle, a new combatant had appeared. What were the orc's intentions? He seemed unaligned to the assassins, yet what reason did he have to assist Abbas, Linni, Fareeda, Jibril and Lambrac?

Abbas ignored the commotion behind him - he had more pressing concerns in the guise of three attacking assassins. Gritting his teeth through the pain of the wound on his arm, he weaved through the Drensiir's attacks and finally scored a good hit on their leader, his blade cutting into the man's shoulder. The assassin recoiled, gasping in pain, but did not fall.

Stunned by Abbas' counter attack, the leader failed to build on the momentum of his previous hit, his lazy attacks going well wide of the mark. The assassins to either side of him still seemed affected by jibril's spell and both failed to connect. The remaining Drensiir in combat with Jibril swung his Falchion again but the priest managed to deflect the blow with his staff, probably more by luck than actual skill.

Suddenly, a new form emerged from the tavern, weaving gracefully past the orc, a beautifully crafted bow in hand. He assessed the scene quickly, then lifted his bow to send an arrow whizzing into the shin of the assassin engaging Jibril.

The new arrival muttered a few words to the orc, evidently his companion, and the huge warrior turned to face the assassin. The lone drensiir started limping away, suddenly outnumbered, but the orc followed him, laughing as he taunted the man. With a grunt, Krogan brought his morning star hard into the assassin's unprotected head with a sickening crunch and he crumpled to the floor, dead.

Linni, offering a nod to the group's new 'allies'. She then muttered an incantation and gestured wildly in the air. Nothing seemed to happen, yet the presence of magic was ominous in the air.

Lambrac stabbed forward with his rapier again, trying to lend some assistance to Abbas, but his attack was easily parried by his target assassin.

His opponent now stiffening on the ground before him, Jibril grunted and gave him a good whack with his staff for good measure. Dust and accumulated filth from the street had begun to creep up his robes and there was a deep nick in the wood of his staff from that last parry. Disaster all round.

---

       a   b   c   d   e
     |www|   |   |   |www|1
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|2
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|3
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |THA|ASS|ddd|4
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|KRO|   |   |www|5
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|ASS|   |LIN|www|6
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |JIB|   |www|7
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|8
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |FAR|   |www|9
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|10
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|11
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |ABB|LAM|www|12
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|ASS|ASS|ASS|www|13
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|14
     +---+---+---+---+---+
     |www|   |   |   |www|15

Key:
ASS - Assassin - AC/T/FF: 14/12/12
FAR - Fareeda
JIB - Jibril
LIN - Linni
LAM - Lambrac
ABB - Abbas
KRO - Krogan
THA - Thaniel
www - Wall
ddd - Door

Krogan watched with great personal satisfaction as the robed fighter fell dead to the dirty street.
"I may grow to love this town" he mused.
Looking up, he recognized the motley crew of "out-of-towners" who'd been menaced by the arrogant human who had spoiled the orc's evening of drinking.  He also saw three more fighters dressed like the one he'd just killed. Logically, it followed that they were allies of the pompous human, and therefore fair game.

With a chuckle of glee, Krogan launched himself down the street.  In his light armor, he was reasonably fleet of foot, but he still had to push himself to reach the other group quickly, before the three locals finished off the decidedly unintimidating foreigners.



Initiative: 11
Move: B13
Full Round Action: Charge,   hit AC 24 on b13 assassin

AC/T/FF  16/10/14

Effects: Dragon Aura: Toughness (DR1/Magic) to allies
Effects: Inspire Courage

06:10, Today: Krogan rolled 25 using 1d20+7. charge assassin b13. (bardsong & charge)
06:12, Today: Krogan rolled 13 using 1d8+5. morning star damage.  (bardsong)


This message was last edited by the player at 12:11, Wed 05 Aug 2009.

Persisting on the attack, for running was still, regrettably, not an option - what was going on back there anyway? - Lambrac made a fencer's thrust forwards with his rapier. The tip jabbed into the assassin's torso, drawing blood. "Ha! I've got you, by Gond." Lambrac cheered.


Standard: Attack 24, rolled a 20! :D
Critical Confirm: 14 :(
Damage 6
Critical Damage 2
Target Assassin in D13

AC/T/FF: 15/13/12

Effects: Inspire Courage

_{19:15, Today: Lambrac rolled 2 using 1d6+1. crit dmg.
19:15, Today: Lambrac rolled 6 using 1d6+1. dmg.
19:15, Today: Lambrac rolled 14 using 1d20+4. crit?.
19:15, Today: Lambrac rolled 24 using 1d20+4. att.} 

Abbas nodded in greeting as Lambrac joined the line up front, and was ready to step 5' back if Lambrac was, or to hold the line if the security expert remained.

Despite Abbas' grace and amazing reflexes, the three sets of blades yet again foiled his attack, fouling the steel and preventing a solid blow to the thigh.  The elf contented himself with the continued blur of defence, shrugging off his injury - at least outwardly.

The new arrivals had dispatched the rear assassin - excellent.  But was this a new help, or a new trouble turning the battle into a three-way fray?

_{miss again}

Jibril frowned at the bloody assassin in front of him. He was tempted to beat him some more with his quarterstaff, but he already had enough blood spatters on him. However, it wouldn't be useful to have all of their attackers dead.  Who would he interrogate then, and how would he find out more about that fat sow who insulted him?  Nope, he needed a prisoner--a live one.  He reached down and checked to see if the assassin was still alive and then administered first aid to him.

Initiative: 2
AC/T/FF: 14/10/10
Effects: Mage Armor

_{06:16, Today: Jibril rolled 15 using 1d20+4. Heal skill. (Made the DC check which should stabilize the assassin if he's still alive).}

Moving down the street, the cloaked man brought forth a small jar from one of his belt pouches. Opening it, the man scooped out a small bit of butter with his pointer finger. Gesturing forward at the three assassins, the butter wrapped itself around his finger - of it's own free will - becoming slick and clear. "Tuk!"

Thaniel spoke in a clear tone - a word that seemed to vanish from the minds of those around him no sooner than as he spoke it. A bright series of sparks lit around his finger, as if bits of blackpowder ignited. In the blink of an eye however, the sparks, and the butter, were gone. Suddenly the same sparks and a small flash of light lit up the ground beneath two of the assassins for a second, as they suddenly found themselves trying to stay standing on top of ground as slippery as... well, butter.

Initiative: 14
Move to B9
Cast Grease, in B13, C13, B14, C14
B13/C13 Assassins need Ref Save DC 14 or fall prone
http://tinyurl.com/etq3p for more details
AC/T/FF: 12/12/9

And so it seemed the momentum had switched. With the sudden arrival of the two strangers out of the Sultan's Cape, Ubdall's assassins were being quickly overwhelmed.

Abbas kept up his defensive net - more of a blockade to stop the three assassins from reaching more vulnerable targets than an offensive threat himself. He lunged forward to try and score another blow on the leader but was easily parried.

The assassins had clearly seen the fall of their two comrades, along with the arrival of Thaniel and Krogan. Their attacks on Abbas grew lazy and they glanced about at each other as if ready to flee.

It was clear Thaniel had other ideas however, and with a muttered incantation, the dusty floor beneath two of the assassins suddenly became slick with slime. The unopposed assassin to Abbas's right slipped, cursing as he landed heavily on his backside. Krogan saw the man fall and quickly rushed forward to press the advantage, his morning star hacking down to silence the prone assassin.

The apparent leader of the assassins grimaced as the Drensiir next to him fell. He started backing away, seemingly about to flee - but then suddenly dropped to the floor, snoring loudly. Sure enough, the man had fallen into a deep sleep in mid-combat and a wry smile from Linni at the other end of the street was the only indication of what had happened.

Seeing two of the remaining three assassins down, Lambrac surged forward, sensing his moment for glory. The final Drensiir shrieked as Lambrac lunged, his rapier impaling the man straight through the heart. With a gurgled moan, the assassin slipped off the blade and crumpled to the ground, dead.

The battle was over. The assassins had threatened to end the adventure before it had even begun, yet the arrival of the orc and his mysterious companion had certainly turned the tide. Awkward, suspicious glances lingered between the main group and the strangers as one tried to figure out the motives of the other.

Jibril knelt down next to the assassin at his feet in an attempt to possibly revive him, yet the man was beyond hope, his skull crushed and blood drained. However the snores of the assassins' leader still rose and fell at the other end of the street. One, it seemed, had survived...

175 experience each.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:39, Thu 06 Aug 2009.

"Well, does somebody have a rope and a gag to tie that bugger up over there before he wakes up? I need some time to interrogate him." He frowned with his hands on his hips, while giving the newcomers a wary eye. "Chop! Chop!"

"Well, you did start it." Lambrac apologised to the assassin as he gurgled on the tip of his rapier, before letting him slide free to his death. Beg for peace, prepare for war. He regretted the man's death, but what other choice was there?

The Lantanna flicked the blood from his sword, then wiped the rest off on the assassin's robes, before sheathing it again. He limped, staggered and winced his way over to the newcomers, then nodded his head in greeting. "Well met to you, gentlemen. Thanks for your support."

The cloaked gentleman slung his bow over one shoulder, similarly nodding his head in greeting to the elf who approached - though the nod more resembled a light bow. "It was the least we could do. A rather corpulent and ill-mannered gentleman saw fit to lock us up inside that tavern there -" he gestured to the nearby inn, "greasing the palm of the barkeep and leaving the rest of us to choke down swill. My associate and I decided against twiddling our thumbs for fear that we'd do little else for several hours if we didn't step in."

The man eyed the rather large chest. "I assume they were looking to relieve you of that?" He gestured to the heavy looking container. "Or did you simply step on the wrong - albeit oversized and fungus infested - toes? I wouldn't blame you of course, from the minute I spent in his presence I felt half inclined to place an arrow between his eyes."

Thaniel glanced face to face amongst the strange group. "Two elves and a gnome meandering through the streets of Calimport? Even with escorts that seems an odd collection." Glancing to Jibril as he called for a gag, Thaniel bowed in the direction of the Azuthite. "And a man of the cloth, dutifully torturing his fallen enemies." Thaniel, oddly enough spoke this with tinges of sadness to his voice, rather then judgement - the inflection of a man who realized necessity, but was hardly pleased knowing what awaited them man, wishing that instead a killing blow had been struck initially, bringing the man's death quickly. "And I thought we were out of place." He grinned at Krogan from beneath his hood.

Two elves? Abbas and...? "Oh, I'm not an elf, I am human - Lantanna, though my people have kinship with the elves of the sea, and the gnomes." he said swiftly, with the Lantanese pace and melodious accent. "I am Lambrac SeKilderic, a security consultant. We were transporting this chest when your fat friend thought to try taking it from us." He moved to retrieve his things and the chest, not trusting the newcomer's fixation on it. Nor did he elaborate on where it had come from, where it was going, or hint at its potential value.

Jibril peered at Lambrac's things. "No rope in there? Who has a rope?" He caught sight of the chest. "Oh, and I suggest that we open that chest ourselves and see what the dear professor thought was so valuable that it put our lives at stake. I want to know exactly what the value of my life is...evidently, I'll have some idea of that from the contents of the chest. Do you have any skill in picking locks?"

"Of course I do. I'm a professional locksmith, both in installation and gaining entry." the self-proclaimed locksmith answered indignantly.

Lambrac considered the chest. He assumed it would be very well secured, possibly even magically so. It would be be a complicated task. Normally he wouldn't pry, but this short excursion had suddenly become quite risky, and if he was to provide security, then he'd need to know exactly what he was securing, and if needed to raise his fee. "But not here. It may take some time, and I'd rather not be here when your whale-like friend returns. Perhaps we could retire to a tavern? Uh, a different tavern."

"But first," He began to check the pockets and gear of the dead assassins, to see what they had that might explain this.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:14, Sun 09 Aug 2009.

Abbas picked up the box under one arm, flipping his burnoose over to cover the fact that he had elected to keep out the two swords in event of further trouble.  "One doesn't open items being couriered over... with the volatile nature of chemicals and politics, that gaff opens trouble, not enlightenment.

"Your assistence was most timely... I admit that aid from an orc was not high in my expectations for the day, but appreciated for its worth nonetheless."  The elven swordsman paused, now that his wound had quit bleeding and the assassins were gone.  "If you are up for a walk, our employer, a gnomish Professor, may well reward you for your efforts against the attempted murder and theft."

Krogan grinned at his elven friend.
I've only been in Calimport a few days, Thaniel, but I'd bet that there are LOTS of stranger things in this town the the likes of us!

He chuckled at his joke,

I don't know what you folks were doing and I won't pry.  Your business is your business, I figure.   'Course, a reward for thumbing my nose at that mouthy blowhard from before.....That sounds like something that could be fun!

The hulking but surprisingly graceful orc looked over at Thaniel, as if silently asking the elf's opinion.

As he speaks, Krogan reached for his draconic magic, letting his mystical aura move from the protective covering of dragons scales to the healing power of a dragon's heart, and then let it spread to his new "comrades in arms".


My name is Krogan Cha'tok, warrior-in-training.  This fight was the best fun I've had all DAY!  Thanks, everyone. 

He nudged a dead assassin with a thick-soled boot.
Especially you fellows.  You were really good sports about it. I appreciate it, truly.

Grinning, he looked at Abbas.
I'm beginning to see that you elven types are far different than I was raised to believe.  It's an honor to meet you, sir.
Following Lambrac's lead, Krogan began to assist with looting the assassins, moving quickly, just in case.

Fareeda looked around at the scene of carnage, a look of sheer horror in her eyes. Having spent most of her life in a Harem, she had not been exposed to the true brutality of the world - unless the ceaseless greed and hungry desire of men could be called 'brutal'. Her eyes drifted from corpse to corpse - to the blood that spread like ooze through the street dust. So this is what death is, she thought, gently shaking her head. The smell of burning flesh lingered in the air and flames still flickered across the now charred black body of the assassin by the tavern door. She fought back the urge to vomit.

It was becoming increasingly clear that this quest, this...task, was not for her. What if Abbas had fallen and the two strangers had not arrived to aid? The blades of those ruthless assassins would have sought her before long, and what defence could she have offered the group? Her lute could inspire and fascinate, but it could not parry a blade!

She glanced around at the others, her eyes wide and seemingly bereft of her usual feminine charm. "I'm sorry. I think I... I think we should leave this place."

Jibril crossed his arms and glared at the elf. "I don't remember anyone electing you to be the decision-maker for our group? Since we were all equally sent for this task, I believe we all deserve a vote on whether the chest should be opened to know its contents.  If you want to be a mindless lemming for the professor, so be it and your vote is cast. I, on the other hand, wish to know what is so valuable that it placed my life at risk."

Krogan looked at the bickering with some amusement.
As much fun as it would be to have another street brawl, perhaps that decision should be made out of view of the street and whatever spies the round human probably has watching us, even as we stand around talking.

He looked around.

Maybe a better tavern?  One with ale that doesn't have quite so much dirt in it?

The orc grinned.

I don't honestly care all that much about what's in the box.  As far as I'm concerned,  you're all "war friends" and I don't steal from "war friends".    Still, I could carry the thing somewhere, at least until we're off the streets?

OOC: Ahem, I retrieved the chest in #142. :p Even if I probably had to put it down again to loot bodies.

Lambrac took the chest back from Abbas, slightly annoyed. "Until I place the chest into the hands of Professor Kraust Hingleswip, it remains the property of Mistress Jala Ghusoon. As her personal security consultant, and appointed courier of said chest, I will be the one to decide what is done with it towards the completion of this task. In that capacity, I retain the right to determine its contents if I feel such information is essential for this purpose." he recited. There was probably a contract somewhere. "Which I will decide and do when we are somewhere safe, rather than standing in the street near four dead men and babbling like a couple of geese." He was slightly aware that his own verbiage contributed to the babbling, but the point had to be made.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:38, Fri 07 Aug 2009.

Jibril studied the big, ugly brute in front of him.  "If you want to help, I'd rather you carry that unconscious assassin over there to the inn for us.  He knows part of the mystery I think we should learn. The other part is inside of that chest."

The elf surrendered the chest back to Lambrac - the former's concern had been seeing the package protected, not need of having possession of it.  Even though Lambrac had only momentarily set it aside , Abbas was concerned with it remaining unattended."The longer we tarry here, the more time for other ambushes to be arranged.  Wasting another quarter glass here is imprudent, and not in keeping with protecting the chest nor complying with the spirit of the Professor's request or your Mistress' courier duty.

"If you wish to interrogate him, Jibril, then bring him along.  My interest is seeing the chest to the Professor and travelling out to explore, not seeking revenge for actions between the Calimshan nobility.  You know the name of the person that initiated the attack and what he appears to look like; what do you expect the assassins to say besides, 'We were hired by the fat human to kill you and deliver the chest to him at his domicile?' - assuming they could say domicile, I suppose."

Abbas shook his head slowly, then nodded down the roadway."We're safer back in the Professor's demesne than here in the street or any tavern complicit with the attackers.

"Krogan, I acknowledge that you are certainly of better quality than most tales told by my people of yours.  Perhaps we might speak of such differences as the group walks, but Fareeda is correct in that we should be moving from here and swiftly."

Annoyed, Jibril moved over to the sleeping assassin and rummaged through is backpack.  "Ah, I forgot I had these..." He retrieved a pair of manacles from his pack and promptly cuffed his snoring attacker. He then searched the assassin's person, hoping to find a dagger or similar weapon on him.  He turned to Abbas after he finished his attack. "I doubt that you're a native Calishite, and even if you are, you should know that just because someone names himself 'Ubdall Kareed' while they are attempting to kill you, it doesn't mean they are being polite with the truth. In fact, I even doubt that your true name is Abbas, so why should I believe that fat pig."  He kicked the assassin awake. "This one here has more motive to tell me the truth, if he so values his life." He sneered down at the man. "Get up you bastard! You're coming with us. If you want to live, you'll tell me what I want to know, but now isn't the place.  Attempt to flee, and you're good as dead."

OOC: Jibril will attempt to intimidate the assassin into submission, using the killer's own dagger as a threat if he has one on his person. If not, he'll threaten him with his quarterstaff.

_{07:51, Today: Jibril rolled 7 using 1d20. Intimidate skill.}
This message was last edited by the player at 18:21, Fri 07 Aug 2009.

Thaniel tried to contain himself. Professor Kraust Hingleswip?! You've got to be joking! How fortuitous! I can't believe... the Gods must be guiding my quest. Thank the fates that we intervened in this tussle. I - I can't believe it may be just this easy. Shaking the thoughts from his head, Thaniel spoke in a calm and even tone - not betraying the thoughts that ran marathons through his mind. "Hingleswip, you say?" The man smiled. "I've heard of him, quite the... eccentric fellow from what they say. Just arrived back in Calimport not too long ago, eh? I don't suppose you can do a traveler a favor and perhaps allow us to meet him. I've only heard stories but I must say that I'm intrigued to meet the man behind the rumors."

Moving up to Abbas as he walked, the hooded man nodded to Krogan and motioned to him, as if indicating that the orc should stay close to him and resume his duties. "Abbas is it? Well, what we learned from some locals in the tavern was that the robust man's name was Ubdall Kareed, apparently some sort of criminal chief who answers to someone even higher - though we received no name. I am not native to this city, so I know little else. I do think it would be wise to move along from this area of the street though."

"You mentioned going out and exploring? Are you planning on heading north? Or, to the Marching Mountains perhaps?

Krogan easily hefted the manacled assassin over his shoulder, ready to dump him on the ground if need be.

"Thaniel is correct.  The cowardly bartender and his patrons all knew of the round human.  He's a celebrity of some menace here, it seems. 
He grinned at the turn of phrase, then looked at Jibril.
Finding out information about his boss shouldn't be hard, but might not be useful, as he probably knows little that isn't common knowledge.  Of course, he MIGHT know something about what's in the box and why that Ubdall fellow is taking time from his "busy schedule" to harass you lot.

The orc nodded at Thaniel's hand motion and moved closer to him, as it he were trying not to stray too far from the man. He still had the assassin over his shoulder, though Krogan kept the shackled man over the shoulder away from Thaniel.

I've worked up a bit of a thirst, my friends.  Where to?

Krogan's dragon aura expanded through the group, healing some of the wounds sustained by Abbas and Lambrac.

Lambrac and Krogan began a quick search of the downed assassins, putting the loot in a pile for all to see.
-3 x Scimitar
-1 x Falchion
-3 x Kukri (The leader's kukri seems of a much higher quality than the rest)
-5 x Leather Armour (2 of which are now beyond use)
-A belt pouch on the sleeping leader containing 10 platinum pieces, a rolled up piece of parchment and two gems, both a crystalline blue in colour.

As several members of the group debated whether or not to investigate the chest, Jibril moved over to the unconscious leader of the assassins, pulling a pair of manacles from his backpack. He shackled the man's wrists together and then took his well-crafted kukri, giving the man a good kick to wake him up.

Hearing Jibril's attempt at intimidation, the man merely laughed through bloodstained teeth, his breathing coming in sharp gasps. "Foolish priest. You honestly believe I will tell you anything?" he coughed again, spots of dark blood spraying across the dusty floor. "I fear not pain nor death so save yourself the effort. Sulaiman may have underestimated your little group this time but do not fret, others will soon follow. Watch your back, friend - the jungle will not be the only thing you'll have to fear." He laughed again, evidently an agonising effort and groaned as Krogan stepped forward to sling him across his huge shoulders.

After loading the weapons, coins and gems into a sack (if others tried to stop him, he'd let them take the stuff instead, not wanting to seem like he was taking it for himself), Krogan hefted the assassin onto a broad shoulder.

"Alright, everyone, where to?  And.....well, are you sure you STILL want "laughing boy" here?"   

The burly orc started bouncing the assassin on his large shoulder, grinning as the criminal groaned with each impact.
Then Krogan stopped and looked at the others.

"Not that he isn't a certain amount of FUN, of course."

Since everyone seemed as healed as they were going to get from his power, Krogan shifted his concentration from the Vigor of the Dragon's Heart to the Eyes of the Dragon, to keep watch for more danger.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:09, Sun 09 Aug 2009.

Perhaps it was the time to recover from the battle, or the orc's boisterous attitude, or the lingering sensations from Jala's love-making, but Lambrac found he felt somewhat better now. The pain of his injuries was lessened, though he still needed some bandages on his bad cuts, or better yet, a curative potion, if only he had the coin to afford one.

He considered the new-comers. The orc might have been a concern, but he seemed too good-spirited to be the brutish thug he'd heard traveller's tales of. Orcs didn't dwell on Lantan, so perhaps all he'd heard had been mere prejudice. And Thaniel, another elf, seemed trustworthy enough. He seemed quite interested in the possibility meeting the professor, though it seemed more like serendipity than some conspiracy to place someone close to him.

"Let's go. Anywhere but here. Preferably somewhere safe so we can go over this issue."

"And leave the thug," Lambrac suggested. "We can't do worse to him than Sulaiman will when he finds out he lost a perfectly good ambush to a jhasina, a priest, an elf, a gnome, and an engineer." he commented, hoping that this Sulaiman inspired more fear than Jibril did.


OOC: Bluff 16

Jibril unrolled the parchment and studied it.  When he heard Lambrac's suggestion, he smiled evilly. "Oh, you are wicked, my friend. But first, we should strip him nude and tie him up in the silks of the jhasina for extra effect.  I personally was thinking of having him locked up in the cells in the Azuthian temple after I was done with him.  The Magistrati don't take kindly to those who have assaulted members of the priesthood. They frequently perform magical experiments on their inmates--unwilling subjects if you wish. I've heard that some involve castration."

_{07:21, Today: Jibril rolled 17 using 1d20. Bluff skill.}

Linni listened as the others began bickering about the chest and as the leader of the assassins was roughed up by Krogan and Jibril. She shook her head as Krogan mentioned finding another tavern. "No. Uncle will need to know about this attack - and you will not open that chest." She glared at Jibril. "What's in there is none of your business."

She turned and made off down the street, stepping over the assassin she had turned to charcoal as if to remind the group of her abilities. "Come on, we're not far away now."

Jibril ignored the sassy gnome. "It became my business when I was attacked over it." He turned to the others, "What inn are we going to?"

_{11:43, Today: Jibril rolled 8 using 1d20. knowledge--local. (for any nearby local establishment suitable for the task at hand)}

Linni was higher up in the chain of command, so Lambrac shrugged. "Very well, let us just get this chest to the professor and be done with it."

Krogan looked around at the others, not yet seeming to notice the weight of the assassin over his broad shoulder.

So, what is the final decision?  Do we take "Lumpy" or leave him for the dogs to eat?  I'm content either way, of course.

He grinned at them.
Leaving the man would certainly free him up to better fight, and the orc certainly had no questions of his own to ask the robed man.   Still, the lithe murderer was very light, so Krogan was prepared to wear him like a foxfur stole for the remainder of their journey, if he needed.  Currently, the orc had him over his left shoulder, head facing front.

Thaniel watched the unsuccessful interrogation and sighed, rolling his eyes.

Turning to Krogan, he shook his head. "Carrying an unconscious man through the streets will do nothing but attract the wrong kind of attention. Even if they are criminals, who knows how far the influence reaches of the man who hired him. We have a small window of time where, as far as any crime lord knows, we were killed by these fine chaps. Lets let them think that, leave these assassins in our wake, and get out of here." Thaniel picked up his pace slightly.

The man gestured to the side of the road. "Just leave him here. He was only doing his job. I'm sure he'll receive more fitting a punishment from his employers then from us carting him through the streets. Lets leave him to rot and be done with it."

Krogan nodded to Thaniel.
Sound logic, my friend.  There'll be time for 'souveniers' later, certainly. 

Grunting, he threw the assassin through the air into an alley, as hard as he could.

Seeing the man land a respectable distance down the narrow passage, landing in garbage, Krogan grunted in satisfaction and looked at his friend again.

I'm not sure, but that could be my best distance yet!  He grinned.

Jauntily, he followed the others.

Lambrac watched the assassin fly down the alley. "An excellent throw, sir." he said drily. "Let's go. Which way back on to the walkways?"

Abbas nodded as Jibril's desire to sidetrek across the city was curbed, and his intent to delay further to snoop was also checked by Linni and the others, himself included.  The elven swordsman found his breath slightly easier, so he moved back into the front to head back towards the Professor's mansion.

Silently, Jibril went over to the assassin to see if he was still conscious after the throw. If not, he was prepared to use first aid on the rogue to wake him, so it would be easier for him to walk the streets. He checks to make sure his manacles are still tightly fitted on him.  "Get up. You're coming with me." With the sharp kukri in hand and his holy symbol prominently displayed, Jibril searched the drudach byways above for an amlakkar to assist him taking the assassin to a place to be questioned.

As the others began to carry on down the street back towards the Professor's laboratory, Jibril went over to the assassin, not happy to just leave the only survivor from the assassination attempt.

The Drensiir assassin had lost consciousness after krogan's throw and his left arm was twisted badly out of the shape, dislocated and probably broken. Jibril worked quickly to stabilise the assassin's condition, though it was clear it would be some hours, possibly longer, before he would wake without magical aid.

Krogan, while seeming not to stray too far from the thin, cloaked man that he'd entered with fray with, walked over to Lambrac.
As much as I hate people who are too nosy and ask personal questions, my friend, I was wondering:  Exactly what ARE you fine folks doing?
And, perhaps we can help.  You people ARE pretty entertaining, I have to admit.

The orc grinned broadly, his smile showing his words to be very sincere, not mocking.
Krogan looks about the area as he walked, eyes widening as he tried to see everything.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:24, Wed 12 Aug 2009.

Jibril sighed at the unconscious figure. This one was going to need a healing spell to bring him back to a talkative state, but he'd wait until he was in a more secure place to cast it.  He rummaged through his backpack again until he found a small signal whistle.  Looking up at the drudach byways, he started blowing the thing loudly, hoping to draw the attention of the amlakkars.  He needed their help to escort his prisoner.  While he awaited some guards, he turned to Lambrac and the others. "I'll find you at the Professor's later. I've got to take care of this business first."

Lambrac winced at the ear-piercing sound of the whistle, not for its loudness, but for the attention it would bring. "Are you quite sure this is a wise idea? We've already been tricked by your amlakkars, how can you be sure that they won't just come back and finish the job?"



"I'm wondering that myself." Lambrac began, considered Jibril's actions. "We were transporting this chest to Professor Hingleswip, though some would seek to stop this mundane action. Soon I suspect we shall be fighting and running for our lives all over again."

Jibril shrugged. "I'm not sure. If they are imposters, I guess I will be in trouble soon enough.  There's no need to wait. I'll find you later." But before the man leaves, Jibril chanted a quick prayer and touched his arm, in hopes of alleviating some of his wounds.

_{18:13, Today: Jibril rolled 2 using 1d8+1. cure light wounds. Spontaneously convert Sanctuary to Cure Light Wounds.}

Krogan chuckled.

Well, both can be fun.   Perhaps we could join you, for now, anyway?
He seemed to direct the question to Thaniel as much as to Lambrac.

Then he looked over at Jibril.
And if your friend is going to insist on summoning the "back up assassins" that are almost certainly waiting around, then we should probably go.

The big orc directed a quiet but strong call to the priest.
Um...sir?  The round human who tried to have you killed already cleared the street earlier so no one would interfere.  I REALLY doubt that anyone is around to hear that whistle that would WANT to help us.

He chuckled at the idea of the fancily dressed man whistling and ending up summoning MORE assassins.

Jibril shrugged again. "Then I will be dead shortly, I suppose. However, I grew up in this city, and I have faith in the city guards--and in Azuth to help me if it pleases him. I said I wanted to find out more from this assassin, and I intend to try. So go find someone else to mock..."

Krogan grinned broadly.
What?  Someone as fun to mock at you?  Even THIS town isn't that big, sir.   But I WAS trying to be helpful, not mocking, just the same. 

He saluted the man's bravery, if nothing else.

Putting so much faith in a God is a new concept for me, but I admire your courage to do so.  Good luck, sir, and I hope we meet again!

He turned and walked with the others.

Jibril waved and smirked at the brute. "I'll pray for you." 

Krogan turned and grinned broadly at the man.  The large orc seemed genuinely touched.

Thanks, my friend, I appreciate it!
He waved and turned to Thaniel  with a smile.

See, so now I have THAT going for me.   Not a bad days work, eh?

Thaniel was tempted through much of the orc's conversation to hold up a hand and silence him, terrified that the man's... unique manners would soon spoil any relationship with these fine gentlemen. Seeing that the man seemed to handle himself though kept the elf silent as he grinned.

"Aye, the prayer of a holy man. That can go a long way my friend." Thaniel bowed slightly to the departing priest and then turned back to his companion. "As I said before, I am quite interested in meeting this Professor so I think tagging along for the time being would be most beneficial for all parties - especially should another group of unsavory folk should happen upon your group here, given the fact that your holy man is leaving to attend to other matters."

The man visibly was holding himself back as they walked - slowing up his naturally quick pace to keep time with his companion and the rest of the party.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:31, Wed 19 Aug 2009.

Lambrac thanked Jibril for the healing, but it was clear the stubborn priest was set on his course and would not be dissuaded. Oh well. He was free to take his life into his own hands should he wish, and it wasn't as if he'd known him very long. The Lantanna bid him "Goodbye." and went after the others.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:43, Wed 12 Aug 2009.

And so, for the first time since they had met on the steps of the Professor's estate - a moment that seemed days past, despite being only a few hours - the group split up. Abbas, Linni, Fareeda, Lambrac and the newcomers Thaniel and Krogan carried on down the street back to the laboratory, while Jibril stayed to 'deal' with the incapacitated assassin.

The main group soon rejoined the byway and proceeded to the Professor's estate without further trouble. The night was now fast drawing in, and though the festival celebrations were occuring largely on the busier merchant streets and bazaar squares - well away from the laboratory - a droning murmur of a hundred thousand voices in unison could be heard all across the city. Fireworks scarred the darkening sky and the glow of illusion magic could be seen emanating from the busier quarters of the sabban.



A few figures walked and stumbled through the residential street, passing between the tenements and along the surrounding byways, but otherwise the area seemed fairly clear of activity.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:49, Thu 13 Aug 2009.

Krogan walked with the others to the "Professor", whoever that was.
He doubted that he'd get paid for his troubles by the mysterious benefactor.  He hadn't been specifically hired by the man, after all, but it might be worth meeting someone with the money to hire the group around him to do something as mundane (though, also apparently very dangerous) as transporting a chest through the streets.

Lambrac walked along casually and enjoyed the sights Calimport had to offer, but he kept a keener eye out for danger now, increasingly on the alert for another ambush for the apparently precious chest. Too bad he had some grit in his eye and the noises of the city were loud and distracting.

"So, what was your interest in meeting the Professor?" Lambrac inquired of Krogan and Thaniel, half-suspecting something was up. "I've not met him yet myself; I'm employed by Mistress Jala Ghusoon and am doing business on her behalf."


OOC: I was going to say I'd Take 10 on Spot and Listen, and I'd thought I'd them a check for each as well, but then...
Spot 4, Listen 4, rolling a 1 on each :(

Krogan grinned at the smaller man.
"I have no idea who any of those people are, honestly.   I'm just looking for excitement and challenge and you lot are the first place I've found it.  I just want to test myself and push my limits and test my skills. "

He seemed to think for a second.

"Also I'm bored, and curious, and much too sober. "

He laughed a little.   Though his tone had been jovial and carefree, the big orc had also been constantly scanning for trouble.

The group advanced with caution back to the Professor's estate. Following his earlier advice, they manouvered around to the laboratory's rear entrance. In the darkness it felt inevitable that more of the ninja-like Drensiir assassins would jump out at every turn, yet none did. Instead, there was only one figure waiting for them outside of the secret door - another old gnome. Even in the gloom his bright red hair was visible, like a glowing coal cooled by water, and his furrowed brow twitched angrily. The more observant members of the group spotted Linni wincing.

As they approached he strode out to meet the group's advance, his hands clenched tightly into fists. "Linni Cobblesprocket!" He bellowed, pointing at the young sorcerer. "Come with me this instant! Do you have any idea of the trouble you are in? Running away from home to jet off with Kraust - who you know has issues - to some dangerous jungle, it just won't do Linni! This isn't a game, you could be killed!"

The rest of the group could only watch in awkward silence as the man, evidently Linni's father, began lecturing her.

Linni seemed to shrink as her father approached. "Pa! What are you doing here?" She listened to his words and suddenly began to sob as tears streamed across her face. "I'm old enough to do what I want pa! You can't make me stay in that boring old town. I need an adventure!"

"You need a backhand girl!" Her father roared in reply. "I am your father, Matton Cobblesprocket, and though you might hate me now, one day you'll thank me for this." He surged forwards towards her at this, ignoring her efforts to resist. He simply flicked his wrist and his daughter went limp, falling into his arms in a deep sleep. Glaring at the rest of the group, Matton carried her off down the street, mumbling and cursing under his breath.

It seemed one of the party had been lost before the adventure had even begun...

Abbas tilted his head as Linni left and shook his head slowly, mistified.  "In a hundred lifetimes I doubt I would understand the people of this city - so intriguing situation in personal and puble.

"The Professor is this way, gentlemen.  Fareeda, if you would?" the elven swordsman again offered his arm as he sheathed his blades and made to lead way back into the secret passage.

"Hey! You can't do that!" Lambrac protested in Gnomish and made to pursue, but it was too late, the gnomes had gone. He hoped little Linni would find her way to freedom one day.

"And I always thought gnomes were such pleasant people." he mused, returning to the group. "So, ah, why are we around the back? I don't see a door - a secret passage, is it?" He cast his eyes around the wall, examining stonework and architecture, seeing if he could determine the secret.


OOC: Search 22

Krogan's first impulse was to grab the wizened little man and "gently" persuade him that the gnome-ette was in good hands.   Unfortunately, he knew  nothing of her situation, and the people who'd known her longer did nothing, so he figured he shoudn't either.
Shrugging, he followed the rest.
Still, he could CERTAINLY sympathize with a controlling father, although HIS father's "backhand" usually had a stick in it.

Unsure what to do or say about the departure of Linni, the others shrugged and moved towards the rear entrance. Lambrac, obviously excited by furnishings such as hidden doors, moved forward to examine the wall, his hands moving briskly over the dusty stone. Within a few seconds a heavy click resounded through the air and the door grated open.

Abbas lead the way in, arms linked with Fareeda - who had said very little, nothing in fact, since the fight. Ascending a few steps, the group found themselves back in the Professor's huge dock area, where the Scilandar still bobbed gently against its harness. Krogan, Thaniel and Lambrac, all of whom were new to the laboratory, could not help but be struck by awe at the sight of the massive airship. Sparks still flew from the vessel's port side and hammer blows echoed somewhere within as the twins continued their repairs.

A face suddenly appeared over the gunwhale and peered down at the group, its silver moustache twitching sporadically.

"Ahah! My guests have returned!" He peered over the group, arching his whiskered brow at the newcomers. "Or some of them at least..."

With a sort of nonchalant grace, the Professor heaved himself up onto the gunwale and stepped out into space. Instead of plummeting to the stone floor some twenty feet below, as gravite demanded he should, he simply lowered gently to the ground like a feather, all the while babbling incoherently about 'progress updates' and 'improved schematics'.

Reaching terra firma, he stood up as tall as he could, put one hand on his hip and rapped the floor with the cane in his other. "Right then." His eyes shifted between the group. "It seems there are questions to be answered. Indeed, and answers to be questioned! - and then answered again! Err..."

Shaking his head, Hingleswip began pacing amongst his guests, stopping suddenly every now and again as if to unnerve them. "So you have my chest I see, yet who is this that carries it?" He peered up at Lambrac, noting the untended wound in the rogue's hip. "And these two," He gestured at Krogan and Thaniel, "Who are they? And where is Linni? And who have you been fighting? And where is that annoying priest? And what is that smell?" The gnome sniffed loudly at the air, his moustache twitching. "Oh that last one's me, don't answer that. Had a run in with a hostile batch of Tethyrian turnips earlier."

Noting the stunned silence of the group after his barrage of questions, the Professor lifted his arms dramatically. "Well!? Chop chop, I don't have all day, I want to get going before my brother in law comes knocking again. Not a favourite with the Cobblesprocket side of the family right now!"

It was like being back on Lantan, like home. Lambrac cast an appraising eye over all he saw, trying to work out what he was or how it worked or who'd built it, from the secret passage to the devices all around and most of all, the grand airship. He breathed deep of the taste of metal and smoke and warmth, and sighed. It was glorious and wondrous invention and engineering.

He gazed up and up the side of the airship, impressed and awed. A little voice inside warned: The Halruaans won't like that. Gond knew that the Lantanese had had enough hassle with the Halruaans over the whole printing press issue. But then, his people were also trying to replicate the flying ship design - perhaps he could work out how the good professor had managed it...

Lambrac stepped forward, bowed and said in fluent Gnomish "Well met, Professor Hingleswip." He switched to Common for everyone's benefit. "I am Lambrac SeKilderic of Lantan, employed by Mistress Jala Ghusoon as her personal security consultant. The Mistress bade me escort this chest to you in order to safeguard its delivery. A wise decision too, for we were accosted by a gang of ruffians led by a certain Ubdall Kareed on route here. We fought them off with the aid of these two fine gentlemen here." He waved to Krogan and Thaniel.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:06, Wed 19 Aug 2009.

Trying to imitate the more civilized lands, the big orc gave a little bow.
Krogan Cha'Tok, at your service, sir.   This is my friend Thaniel.   We assisted with the "pest problem" and decided to stick around in case of more trouble.  And to meet a man of your importance, of course.

He grinned at the gnome.   Krogan was sure to keep his hands away from his weapons as he bowed.

"The priest felt it more important to pursue his anger upon the remaining attacker than to return the package and join the expedition," Abbas explained neutrally, proceeding cautiously in case Jibril was friend to the Professor.  "Linni's father collected her outside and took her home over some domestic issue.

"As Lambrac advises, the two gentlement were of assistence in the ambush, as was Lambrac himself."

Thaniel lowered his hood at this point, partially to take in the great sight of the airship, and partially out of respect for the elderly gnome whom spoke to them. The angled features of a moon elf quickly became clear. The man seemed a little upset that Krogan made introductions for his employer, rather then the other way around, but brushed it off. I'll have to sit him down and explain some basic manners at some point, if this is to work. Noting any strange or surprised looks at the fact that he was an elf, he gave such onlookers a look that said 'you really expected me to walk around as an elf in Calimport?'

"My name is Thaniel Nostithil. I am a traveler from the North. Krogan here is under my employment as a bodyguard. It was the least we could do to lend our aid. As Tymora would have it, such lended aid has landed us in the presence of a quite well-known inventor, and a quite..." Thaniel gazed up at the airship, "impressive invention."

Taking a few steps towards the ship, Thaniel let out a low, impressed whistle. "What do you call her?"

The Professor's cheery, if slightly eccentric, demeanour switched as Lambrac mentioned 'Ubdall Kareed'. The name clearly meant something to the old gnome and his silver eyebrows came together as he stood for a few moments in deep thought. "Kareed hmm." He stroked the whiskers of his moustache and spoke again, to himself as much as anyone else. "I was beginning to wonder when that bunch of cut throats would start nosing around. This could get...complicated."

As if suddenly remembering something else, Hingleswip's gaze snapped back to Lambrac. "And you," He poked his cane in the rogue's direction. "What task has Mistress Ghusoon set you on?" He smiled knowingly. "She has her payment does she not? I know that sly fox wouldn't care a damn if the chest reached me or not. Why then are you here?"

Once Lambrac had answered, the Professor turned to Krogan and Thaniel, peering at them both through the lowlight of torches burning around the huge dock chamber. "An elf and an orc travelling together like the best of friends, curious indeed." He arched a brow ever so slightly before waving his hand dismissively at whatever idea had entered his mind. "I thank you for the assistance you offered. It seems I have lost my niece and possibly that Magistrati priest as well - a shame for I would have liked to see how long the colours of his robes lasted in the jungle. I have a position of employment available on my ship if you are interested. She is named the Scilandar and is preparing for a journey - my last journey - to the jungles of Chult."

The elf flinched at the mention of 'friendship' when he had purposefully avoided the word. Still, he kept his tongue still as the Professor made his offer.

"Yes." Thaniel's agreement almost overlapped the Professor's question. Seeing his eagerness show the elf physically pulled himself back under control, taking a step or two back. "I mean, of course. This is exactly what I am seeking. Adventure. The jungles of Chult you say? I am an adept marksman and my guard here," he gestured to Krogan, "quite the warrior - not to mention a charming conversationalist." He nodded with a smile to the orc, as if he had to sell their skills to the man who'd already offered them employment. Almost a practiced speech.

"The Scilandar you say?" Thaniel gazed up at the airship.

"Quite a beauty."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:20, Thu 20 Aug 2009.

Lambrac chewed his lip, not liking what he had to do, volunteering for the expedition - and the other thing. "The Mistress has requested that I offer my services as a security expert for your expedition. I am trained as a lockpicker and a trapspringer, I'm knowledgable on architectural and dungeoneering matters, and can enter places unobserved." he explained. "I would be the Mistress's representative on this endeavour, to protect her investment, and to procure such treasures as I deem worthy of her collection along the way."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:12, Sat 22 Aug 2009.

The orc missed the elf's flinching, but Krogan looked at Thaniel with an eyebrow cocked, grinning.
Either the elf loves jungles, or he's in a REAL hurry to get out of town.   
He shrugged.  Feh.  Either way. he thought.
Out loud, he said.

I'd certainly love to join you.  It sounds like fun!  I've never flown before.  I'll bet it's GLORIOUS, seeing the world, as if through the eyes of a dragon, or something.   I'm in.   What are your terms?

He glances over at Thaniel., smiling.

And thanks again, my friend,  for mentioning my conversational skills.  Not many people in this town seem to appreciate good conversation.

"A pleasant pair of surprises in finding a conversational orcan warrior and a fellow elven traveller," Abbas remarked, nodding to the professor's look of whether or not the elven swordsman was in favour of the two.  "I must say, after the priest's acrid nature, your discourse and company has been most pleasant."

Abbas touched tentatively upon the wound he had received during the battle, but did not feel it quite as bad now that combat had passed.  Something to be said for the heat and air of this climb, one imagined.

Krogan smirked at the other elf.
I was raised among a tribe of orcs that were not real good at conversation.  I guess I'm making up for lost time.

He chuckled a bit.
Especially when the only thing they talk about is how much they hate elves.
Which wouldn't be so boring, except that most of them have no reason to hate you, other then "Gruumsh One-Eye said to". 

The Professor eyed Lambrac with suspicion. "Services indeed?" He smiled and twiddled his thumbs together. "Very well. I suppose It's inevitable that Ghusoon has a hand to play in this, Gond knows she's got her fingers in everything else." He shivered, as if at the thought of a memory. "But rest assured young Lantanna, I really do have eyes in the back of my head."

He let his gaze linger on Lambrac for a moment before turning to Thaniel. "Excellent! Glad to have you along! That is, glad to have you on board...the boat."

He sighed and glanced at Abbas. "Another pointy eared friend for you swordsman, maybe you two could share a bunk and save some room!" He made to roar with laughter but instead broke into a fit of coughs. "So you say the Azuth-lover stayed behind? Do you expect him to return here? I wish to make headway soon."

"Considering his focus upon his attire and tracking down the attacker, rather than exploring, it is unlikely.  Always possible, but unlikely."  Abbas ignored the elven jest, taking it for the good-nature meant behind the bigotted comment - for certain elves were more fair than gnomes and humans, but elven women were that much again more impressive.

"Oh, I'd have volunteered for this mission anyway, sir, for a chance to travel aboard your magnificent sky-ship." Lambrac replied, gazing up in awe at the vessel, and wonder just how much the gnome suspected.

"The Magistrati did say he would catch up with us later, so I believe he intends to return. That is, if he still lives."

Krogan raised a shaggy eyebrow at "the elves sharing a bunk" comment.
The orcs were always speculating on the sleeping habits, and other nighttime habits, of elves.  The speculations and rumors had gotten so outlandish at one point that Krogan had tuned them out years ago.  One had been that elves sleep in a big pile like rats or other rodents.  Krogan assumed that it wasn't true, but it seemed that the gnome inventor had heard the same rumor.

Looking somewhat cleaner, though with his perpetual sneer still firmly in place, Jibril returned to the laboratory, via the front entrance - having evidently been too stubborn to use the rear. He seemed to realise that none of them had been expecting him to return and looked on at their obvious disappointment with a sort of smug derision.

The Professor eyed Jibril's return with an arched brow, noting the splatters of blood and dust marring the priest's yellow robes.

"Good of you to join us sir." He spoke with a thin smile. "Well then, let us not delay any longer - the adventure of a life time awaits us!" He turned to look at the Scilandar and chuckled. "That or certain death."

Humming a tune, the Professor began to walk forward. He lifted into the air, his legs still walking furiously, and started to float upwards. Reaching the gunwale, he dropped forward, landing in a heap on the ship's deck.

Cursing loudly in Gnomish, his face appeared over the side again. "Well? What are you waiting for" His eyes drooped. "Don't tell me my new employees cannot even levitate? How do you expect to evade marauding Rashelen Land Reavers in the swamps of Ubten Kallarek?"

He sighed loudly. "HAM!"

A rope ladder flew over the port gunwale.

Krogan waved to Jibril.  Unlike some of the others, he was happy to see the priest.
"Good to have you back!  You're JUST in time!"

As the rope ladder was lowered, Krogan shrugged and was the first one to approach.
Adventure or certain death....eh, they're both something to do, I guess.

As he began his climb, he looked over to Thaniel.
I LIKE this gnomish fellow.  He's very entertaining!
You know, I have a REALLY good feeling about this trip.

He scrambled to the top, then took up a position with a javelin in hand, to cover the rest of them.
The orc honestly expected no trouble, but, well, he WAS "on the clock", after all.

So the priest wasn't dead. Lambrac was surprised, though noting the blood-stains and the dust, he wondered how close it had been. Or had they been sustained in the initial ambush? It had been dark, he couldn't be sure.

The Lantanna shrugged and stepped up to the rope-ladder after Krogan. Hand over hand, he scrambled up it with ease, and bounded over the railing onto the deck. Already he was looking eagerly about to see the mechanics and devices of the ship at work. How had it been done? How it could be copied and sent back to Lantan?

Hand over hand, the elf made his way quickly up the rope ladder, before swinging a leg over the side of this ship and taking in the sights around him. A flying ship, who would have thought... And so it begins. I'm here, and the path is set. All will come to pass that is destined to. All shall be righted.

The man seemed lost in thought for a few moments, but seemed more then capable of pulling himself from this state in order to size up each of his fellow passengers as they climbed on board. "I do have a minor preference as to my sleeping arrangements, but perhaps it is a discussion for the two of us to have in private - among some other topics I'd like to bring up with you Professor, to iron out the finer points of the employment of my associate and myself." Glancing out to the bow of the ship, Thaniel smiled.

"It's a discussion that can wait until we've got air in our sails though, no rush." He smiled.

Krogan moved to the elf's side and whispers.
Waiting until we're trapped high in the air might NOT be the best time to negotiate.
Just a little friendly advice.

He grinned, confident that the wiley elf would do a good job, however.

Thaniel spun on the orc, as if caught off guard by the man's whisper. After locking eyes with the orc for a moment, he shook his head. "I know what I'm doing my friend. No worries."

With a sigh, he walked away from the entry ladder and moved to get a better look at the main deck of the airship.

Krogan grinned and shrugged.
Alright, my friend.  Just speaking my mind.   I'll leave you to it. 

The large, lean orc wanders off, seemingly not worried either way.

He goes to take a look around the ship.

Abbas offered a hand to the women of the party, then flit lightly up the ship ladder.  He, like the half-orc, took careful examination of the vessel's layout, especially fastest routes to various locations, defensive focal points, general paths through the ship with respect to hatches and portals, and so forth.

(OOC: this is probably the last post of this thread so i might as well get cracking before the next chapter.)

Fareeda released her tight hold on Abbas' hand as she climbed aboard onto the main deck. The Scilandar was indeed a marvel in Gnomish engineering design although such matters were not her strongest subjects. It was one thing to see the Scilandar from a safe distance but it was quite another to actually be standing on the airship itself. Fareeda's hands were touching the cool metal and wood with a sense of awe.

She went to one side and saw the many spires and minarets of Calimport. While her face was calm and confident, deep inside she felt odd mixed feelings about leaving the city. Calimport had brought her much misery over the years and yet it was her home of sorts. It was strange leaving it all behind almost like if she was already feeling homesick.

Shaking her head rapidly as if to clear it of such dismal thoughts, Fareeda offered a quick silent prayer to Lady Firehair and made hand motions in the air and soft chants and the bit of wool in the palm of her right hand had disappeared into nothingness in a haze of bright red and azure light.

Then she took out her mandolin and played a song that accompanied the sounds and voices of the Ghost Sound spell she had just casted:

http://www.mixpod.com/playlist/86255660 (Track 3)
This message was last edited by the player at 00:37, Sun 23 Oct 2011.

OOC: Sure, I'll join in the fun

Krogan joined Fareeda at the railing as the air ship lifted off.   Though not particularly afraid of heights, the orc shaman couldn't help but feel nervous about being so high up.
Until, that was, he saw the view.

The big man's face lit up with almost childlike wonder, and he gazed with awe, joy, and a little envy at the slowly sinking rooftops of the city.

It's a little like being a dragon, flying over the mountains.
He seemed.to be.speaking more to himself than to the bard.
Then, self consciously, he seemed to remember that she was there.  To try to cover up his embarrassing statement, he gave her a sudden smile with suprisingly clean teeth.

That's a good song.   It fits this occasion well.

Krogan was not homesick like the human beside him.  His "home" had been a system of smoky, smelly, dank orc caves for most of his life, which he hoped to never see again, so he'd never developed the sentimentality for any particular place that mamy humans had.
Calimport was nice, but he was ready to move on.

The Ghost Sound cantrip finally fading, Fareeda had just finished her song and was taken out of her trance like state by the sudden appearance of the orc. At first, she was more than a little unsettled by the ugly brute as orcs were quite rare this far south. However, realizing that she was to be in the same airship with him during the long voyage, Fareeda saw no reason to be uncivil.

"Thank you, Its basically a farewell song about the city itself. Calimport is often called the city of glory but it is also called just as often the city of slaves. Perhaps i will miss it but not too much." she said softly.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:21, Sun 23 Oct 2011.

OOC: As orcs go, Krogan is actually very clean, well-groomed, and even somewhat handsome.   Of course, that might not matter to the bard.   Just saying, though.

Krogan nodded, looking out at the cityscape.
Yes, I enjoyed my time in Calimport very much.  I can see the bad as well as the good, of course, and am glad, I'll admit, to get back to the purity of the wild places of the world.    Still, I look forward to our return to the wonders of civilization.

"If even half of the whispered tales i have heard in the drinking places within the sabbans are to be believed, then Chult is indeed wild. Forgive my staring at you so, i truly meant no offense, its just that i encountered few orcs as your kind are extremely rare this far south of the Lake of Steam.

But then again what do i know of anything outside of city life? Mayhap there are orcish tribes in the Calim desert or in the lands of the lions or even in the jungles down south that are waiting to be discovered? Who can really say?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:23, Sun 23 Oct 2011.

Krogan chuckled at the songstress.
If the legends of my people are to be believed, we can and will, survive and thrive, anywhere and everywhere.

Then he snorted a laugh.
Though I've always found the shaman storytellers of Gruumsh to be pompous windbags who are much too impressed with themselves.    In truth, though, orcs are hardy, and we might be around the world, certainly.   I think only humans are more adaptable.   

And that, he added silently, because humans will sometimes humble themselves to the elements where orcs will fight with nature until one dies.
But he didn't add that.

"Mayhaps we humans a little too adaptable if you listened to the elves." Fareeda turned to look the city skyline for a moment.

"Its bad enough we have to share this trip with that pompous Azuthite, but why for Sune's sake do you let the other elf, what is his name again, oh yes Thaniel, treat you so? I have noticed it and i can tell you are no servant brought and paid for like Lambrac. Even if he saved your life or something like that, a debt of honor can only be taken so far if one abuses it."

The orc grinned.
I'm his bodyguard, for now at least, but it's no "debt of honor" or some similar nonsense  rest assured.   He can be a bit full of himself, but I figured that was an elven thing.   If I ever feel "abused", I will quit, don't worry, my friend.

The big man seemed happy to get the advise, even if he wasn't concerned at the moment.

Quest completed. Awarded 250 Experience each. Feel free to add this to your character sheets. Linni and Fareeda, I gave you both an exp boost to account for the monthly bonuses you lost so you'll be around the same level as the others now.